The Middle Curse
by SisterDramamine
Summary: The name Winchester carries a lot of responsibilities and, seemingly, curses. When our long lost sister shows up, she reminds us of that by informing us of a war that seems to be centered around her. Oh, and that she's a witch. Peachy, right? Join my younger siblings, Cas & me (Dean) as we team up with gods & fairies, slay vampires & attempt to save the world. A-friggin'-gain.
1. Back In Black

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, nor am I affiliated, associated or involved with the show in any way, shape or form. Sometimes I hope I'll be contacted by them to write a Supernatural series after the show is over (maybe graphic novels or something along those lines), but until then I'm sticking with non-profit, just-for-fun fan fiction.**

**Author's Note: I finally wrote something that's not a sequel! Woot! Takes place early Season 8 with a few changes. I kept Benny, cause I like him, and how Dean clawed his way out of Purgatory. Got rid of the tablets & the Prophet. Not that I dislike that story line, this is just where my mind took me.**

**For those of you following my other story, don't fret, I haven't abandoned it. Between you and me (and the thousands of people who have access to this website), I usually wait until I've finished and mostly edited a story before I start posting.**

**I'm rambling. Anyway, new day, new story, new followers? Reviews make my day. Enjoy!**

**Dean**

I rummage through the personal armory I keep stowed away in the trunk of my Impala, grabbing every silver blade I can find. Sam loads a pistol with silver bullets as a wolf cries out to the full moon somewhere in the distance. Sounds like we're in the right place.

"You ready?" I ask my little brother who nods before I latch the trunk.

The two of us take off down the darkened streets of an abandoned warehouse district, ready for the evening's hunt. Despite the fact there's nothing particularly strange about the situation - you know, beyond the whole werewolf thing - something still feels out of place. And this isn't the first time I've felt like something is askew.

I'm more than used to the whole Dean and Sammy team. It's always been just us and tonight is no different. Except, for a while now, I've felt like something has been missing. As if there's this persistent void that clings to our life.

"Hey, Sammy," I find myself saying, my breath clinging to the cool air as I speak. "You ever feel like we're missing someone?"

"What, like Cas?" my brother says, not entirely sure what I mean.

"No," I shake my head, trying not to think too long about my friend who's probably still fighting his way through Purgatory.

"Bobby? Dad?" Sam lists and I roll my eyes.

"Quit naming dead people," I grumble. "That's not what I mean."

"What do you mean?" Sammy finds confusion in my curious question.

"I don't know," I shrug as we walk, staying alert while we converse. "At first I thought it was the natural urge to be normal. The whole wife, kid, nine to five thing. But I don't think that's what it is."

"That really clarified things," Sam mutters sarcastically.

"I don't know how to explain it," I admit. "It almost feels like... I don't know... like maybe there should be three of us. You ever feel like that?"

"Yeah," he slowly nods. "I guess I do."

I shrug all this off when the wolf lets loose another howl, this time closer. I'll let this nag at me later, like it has for the past decade or so. We're closing in on the beast and I need to focus.

We draw our guns out from within our jacket pockets and cautiously maneuver through the shadows, keeping a sharp eye and an even sharper ear out for the thing that's probably hunting us back. For a while the only thing we can hear are our shoes lightly treading the crumbling pavement. And then we hear it. A low growl from a shadowy rooftop.

Got you, you bastard.

My finger squeezes the trigger, my gun spitting silver bullets at the monster that springs down upon us. Bullet one sinks into his left shoulder blade while bullet two grazes his neck, something that slows the wolf down but doesn't come close to stopping it. I fire off another shot, the bullet finding a comfortable place between the monster's lungs.

The wolf man yelps as it falls to its knees, his chest heaving as he struggles to regain breath. We don't let him. Sam and I each fire a couple of rounds into his chest and, between the two of us, are able to successfully kill the damn thing.

"Is it me," I begin, putting my weapon away as we stand over the lifeless corpse. "Or are these things getting way too easy to kill?"

Perhaps it's the fact we didn't pay close attention to the details on this case, or maybe the words I just spoke jinxed us. Whatever the reason, we're made quite aware of a second wolf when it barrels out from behind. This one, a female wolf, shoves Sammy out of her way before she can charge me. Tackling me to the ground, her sharp claws dig into my flesh as she attempts to rip me to shreds, her teeth gnashing as she snarls down at me in a pure animalistic fit.

I fend her off as best as I can, but it doesn't take long for her to pin my arms to the ground and I find myself completely helpless against the beast. My eyes frantically search for Sammy and, when I find him laying unconscious beside a dumpster, I abandon hope. This is how it ends for Dean Winchester. I survived Hell, the Apocalypse and Purgatory only to get my heart stolen by a friggin' werewolf.

Is this a bad ass death or just a really bad one?

Just when it looks like my beating heart is about to get ripped through my chest, a shadowy figure makes its way into my field of vision. Silently it thrusts a long dagger through the back of the wolf's neck, taking her by complete surprise. With a fluid motion the figure throws the creature to her back and quickly drives the blade into her heart with a swift, downward thrust.

Talk about dumb luck.

I gradually pick myself up off the ground to study my rescuer who removes her weapon from the dead beast, wiping blood from the blade onto her torn, dark denim jeans. She stands a few inches shorter than me and, if I had to guess in this light, I'd say she was in her early twenties, 25 at the most. Her figure is trim but fit, her hair long, dark and wavy. Full, defined lips display a tiny smile that brightens her small, round face as she looks to me.

"Thanks," I speak, eyeing the black and white Motörhead t-shirt she wears beneath a long black trench coat, left open to flutter in the cool breeze. "That was good timing."

"Indeed," she agrees as she turns her face, allowing the moonlight to expose the color of her eyes; the right a deep, sapphire blue, the left a bright, emerald green. They're stunning, to say the least, as is this stranger that stands before me.

She is a stranger. I would remember her, for sure. At least the eyes. So what's with the hauntingly familiar vibe she's giving off? And how come, despite her beauty, I feel no attraction whatsoever to her?

"I'm Dean," I introduce myself after a moment of eerie silence passes.

"Jude," she returns, maintaining her soft smile.

The way she looks at me, it's like she knows me. Like it's amusing to her that we're introducing ourselves to each other. I rack my mind for some kind of memory of this young woman, but I can't produce a single one.

"I'm guessing you're a hunter?" I assume.

"You could say that," she tells me. "I can't really escape it. It's in the blood. Runs in the family. I'm sure you know what that's like." Pause. "You're bleeding."

I glance down to my left arm and notice two sizable tears in my jacket that line up exactly with two long, deep gashes.

"Aw, man," I mutter, briefly examining my wounds and the shredded leather material. "Son of a bitch ruined my jacket."

"I'll patch you and your jacket up if you'd like," she offers me sweetly. "We should probably make sure Sam's okay, though."

Oh, crap. Sam. I almost forgot about...

Wait.

"How did you know his name?" I have to ask.

For a split second she looks embarrassed, as if she let a secret slip. When she recomposes herself she gives me a mysterious smile.

"I know a lot about you two," she tells me and I find myself struggling to determine whether or not I should be concerned by this.

"Do, uh, do we know you?" is my next question.

"Yes," she nods. "Well, you used to anyway."

Before I can ask how, or from where or why, she does something weird. She throws her arms around me and pulls me into her for a long, hard embrace.

"This isn't awkward..." I mutter sarcastically as she lets me go. She remains close to me, her face only inches from mine as her eyes stare straight into my own.

"I'm going to remind you of who I am," she tells me with a solemn breath. "But first I need you to know that I am extremely sorry for what I did and that I love you."

"Oh... kay..."

She cups her hands over my temples, her eyes never straying from mine as she whispers a short string of Latin sounding words.

And suddenly I remember. Everything. Whatever she said, whatever she did, it's induced a rapid flood of every single childhood memory I ever had with one tiny but huge detail that's changed.

Her. Not right now her, but rather several younger versions of her. In the back seat of the Impala playing army men with Sam. In the cold, dingy motel rooms reading comic books and protesting my culinary abilities, or lack thereof. At Bobby's practicing bow and riffle skills. Clutched tightly in dad's arms as he rushed out of the burning house the night mom died.

"Gloria..." I choke out her name for the first time in... fourteen years?

My eyes grow wide as each memory is rewritten and a mixed bag of emotions unleashes itself upon me. I find relief that she's alive and I can't deny how good it is to see her after all these years. It is, however, kind of angering I couldn't remember her and even more so the fact it's been that long since I've even thought about her. The one emotion that really sticks out is the betrayal that sinks in when I remember she left us. Dad, Sammy and me.

"Hey, brother," she says when she knows I finally remember her. "Miss me?"


	2. Hey, Jude

**Jude**

"Gloria..." Dean whispers.

I hate that name. Don't get me wrong, it's kind of endearing I was named after a great grandmother and sort of cool it's also the name of one of my favorite Jimi Hendrix songs. But I prefer the name everyone's called me since I can remember, my middle name which came from my mom's favorite Beatles song. It fits me better and it means more to me, seeing how she's dead and all. It's like I have a piece of her with me forever.

"What the hell?" is what comes out of Dean's mouth when he's able to rummage though the surprise emotional attack. "Seriously, Jude. What... the hell?"

He has a lot of questions. So many he can't begin to know where to start. I don't blame him. I did kind of disappear for fourteen years.

Sammy emits a loud groan as he returns to the waking world, tenderly feeling the goose egg that rises on the back of his head. This draws Dean's attention for the time being as we both attend to our little brother.

"Oh, man," Sam moans as Dean gently helps him sit up, resting his weary body against the empty dumpster. "What happened?" He pauses, his eyes finding me as they squint up. "Who are you?"

"There was a second wolf," Dean tells him. "She swung by at the last minuet to help out."

"Awesome," Sammy coughs slightly. "Who is she?"

I kneel beside my not so little brother and repeat the short incantation. His eyes grow with a mixture of shock, anger and excitement as the memory of me weaves itself back into his mind.

"J-Jude?" he stammers and I nod.

"Hey, Sammy," I offer him a smile. "Long time no see."

"Jude," he repeats my preferred name as he leans forward, wrapping his long arms around my much smaller frame in a surprising embrace. "It's so good to see you. I think." He pauses to release himself from our fleeting hug. "What the hell happened?"

"She was just about to tell us," Dean states firmly, his authoritative tone causing me to roll my eyes.

"Of course I was," I tell him. "I wouldn't have reminded you of everything if I didn't plan on explaining myself."

"Why couldn't we remember you?" is the question on the forefront of Sammy's mind. "And why do we remember you now?"

"Look," I begin with a small sigh. "By sunrise, I will have answered every question you have. I promise. But it's a really long story. Dean looks like he needs stitches, you look like you have a headache and we all look like we could use a drink. Let's just go back to the motel and I'll explain everything while I fix up Dean."

"What do you mean 'back' to the motel?" Dean asks, cocking a suspicious brow.

"I saw the Impala at the Red Lion Lodge when I got into town," I state. "I figured it was you and got the room next to yours."

I don't mention the fact I've been following them. Dean knows this encounter wasn't random. If it was, I probably wouldn't have given them their memory back.

"So?" I ask, helping Sam to his feet. "What do you say?"

"You walk out on us for fourteen years," Dean begins in a low growl. "And you think we can just sit down with a couple of beers like nothing happened?"

"Well, no," I admit. "I just figured it was a more comfortable place to share stories."

"Come on," Sammy attempts to coax our bitter older brother. "She's right. It's kind of cold out here."

"Fine," he begrudgingly accepts.

I follow the '67 Impala in my black Harley back to the motel where we gather in the room they share which looks similar to my own; lime green walls, brown shag carpeting, powder blue bed spreads, tacky paintings of forest wild life. It takes some convincing but, after a swill or two from his half empty whiskey bottle, Dean takes a seat in the uncomfortable wood framed chair I pull from the round, maple wood table beneath the long window who's yellow curtains have been drawn.

"You said you were going to explain yourself," he grumbles, watching as I pull a small, oak box from the depths of my large black back pack and place it on the table beside him. "So, start explaining. Why'd you ditch us?"

"What's the last thing you remember about me?" I ask curiously, gently drawing the box open to expose a variety of colored threads and a collection of needles.

"I remember dad being really upset over something you did," Sam says as he hands a bottle of beer to Dean. "I figured he had found your stash or something."

"Dad caught her practicing witchcraft," Dean informs him. "After all he taught us..."

"That's it," I interject, carefully selecting a forest green colored thread and a thin, hooked needle. "That, right there. It's why I left." I pause, noticing my older brother still wears his torn leather jacket. "I can't stitch you back up if you're still wearing that."

"Why?" Dean presses me, slowly stripping layers from his shoulders until he sits in a black t-shirt. "So you could go practice some demonic bull shit? You're obviously still using it. You look pretty damn good for a 31 year old."

"First of all, it's not demonic," I defend myself, hastily snatching the whisky bottle from his hands. "Second, do you want to hear what I have to say or do you want to spend all night throwing accusations at me?"

"Satanic, VooDoo, HooDoo, whatever," Dean rolls his eyes. "You knew better. Dad didn't raise us to use that crap."

"Dad didn't exactly raise us," I return. "You did. You raised me to think witchcraft was inexcusably wrong. I know your intentions were pure, but, honestly, it kind of messed me up for a while. I went on quite ashamed of it for several years."

"Guilty conscious?" Dean spits. "Good. You should feel guilty. You chose it over us."

I pour the liquor over Dean's wounds and he stops talking long enough to grimace at the sharp pain.

"Again with the accusations," I manage to maintain a calm voice despite the anger his last comment sparks. "You should know I didn't chose anything. I was born this way."

"Born what way?" Sammy doesn't want to assume my explanation is really that obvious.

"You know," I shrug, dabbing Dean's alcohol soaked arm with a cream colored bath towel. "Magical. I'm a witch."

"What do you mean you're a witch?" Dean's brows furrow.

"I'm not really sure I can make that any clearer," I say as I begin stitching the gashes in his arm.

"I mean, how are you just born with it?" he clarifies. "Since when is being a witch not a choice?"

"It's possible," I state. "It's pretty rare, but it happens."

"How, though?" Sam is curious to know. "Is it a bloodline kind of thing?"

"Sort of," I shrug. "There's this whole back story. It's kind of long and it's not really why I'm here."

"Okay, so your a witch," Dean pretends to accept. "Dad finds this out and your solution was to take off without explaining it to him?"

"You know I tried," I find myself in defense mode again. "Talking to him about it was like talking to a brick wall. I know I shouldn't have left like that and I'm sorry I did, I really am. I wish every day I hadn't. I was 17. I didn't know what else to do."

"So you ran away," Dean goes on, his bitter tone never wavering. "Fine. Did you really have to take our memories of you, too?"

"I'm sorry about that," I hang my head briefly. "It was kind of an accident. Dad looked so hurt and so angry, I didn't want him to remember me that way. That and I didn't want him to, well, you know, hunt me."

"That's dumb," Dean mutters, something I already know.

"Anyway," I go on. "When I went to erase the last memory you all had of me, I accidentally erased everyone's memory of me."

"Why now?" Sammy speaks up. "Not that I'm not glad to see you or anything. It's just... why did you let us go this long without you? Why did you let dad die forgetting you?"

I try not to cry as I tie off the stitching on the first gash.

"I didn't mean to," I begin the explanation on my prolonged absence. "It took me a few years to figure out how to replace what I had erased, but by then you were in college, dad was on the other side of the country and Dean was on his own case in the south. You were all doing your own thing and I thought maybe the timing was wrong. I kept track of you, waiting until the right time to reveal myself. I thought about coming back when dad went missing but I didn't want to alert the demons of my existence, so I fought a little in the background out of sight."

"Wait," Dean stops me. "You knew about Yellow Eyes?"

"Yes," I nod.

"What else do you know about?" he wonders aloud. "Did you know about me going to Hell?"

"Yes," I nod again, quietly adding "dumb ass."

"Did you know about the Apocalypse?" he continues. "Cause I'm not gonna lie, we really could have used you for that one."

"I wanted to help, I did," I attempt to assure them. "I even tried several times to get to you."

"What happened?" Sam wants to know, his tone far calmer than Dean's.

"The angels were pretty insistent I stay out of it," I share. "They thought if you were to remember me, it would lessen the chance you would say yes to Lucifer and Michael. Dick bags locked me in a doorless room for three weeks until I promised I'd fall back."

"The gold room with the fancy crap and free hamburgers?" Dean temporarily abandons his anger at his own memory of the place. "I hate that room."

"Don't take this the wrong way," Sam says. "But, why didn't the angels just kill you? They don't usually take disobedience lightly."

"Beats me," I shrug. "Either way, I had to make good on my promise so I stayed out of it. And then Dean attempted a normal life and I really didn't want to get involved with what you and grandpa Campbell were doing. No offense."

"None taken," Sam says.

"And then your angel friend unleashed the Leviathans and I headed up to Canada where I gathered a crew of witches from around the world to help figure out a way to lock them up," I continue listing reasons I've failed to return to them. "As you know, someone put them back before we could come up with anything. Dean went to Purgatory and you were giving the whole normal thing a try."

"Which leads us to now," Dean says as I tie off the second set of stitches. "Why now? What do you need?"

"I didn't come to ask for any favors," I tell him, looking him square in the eye. "I'm not stupid."

Dean eyes me suspiciously, taking a long drink from the whiskey bottle.

"Okay, fine," I sigh. "There _is_ something I could use your help with."

"I knew it," Dean pounds a fist angrily upon the flimsy table top.

"I don't expect you to help," I quickly continue. "I really did come here to tell you I'm sorry. I know it's long over due and, honestly, I really just wanted to see you." I pause. "Also, I came to warn you."

"Warn us?" Sam echoes. "Warn us about what?"

"Something's coming," I share. "And it's not good. Armies are already being built."

"Armies of what?" Dean asks, a mild hesitance in his voice.

"Other witches," I start the list. "Zombies. Wraiths. Vampires."

"Oh, good," Dean mutters sarcastically under his breath. "For a minuet I thought you were going to say something completely horrible."


	3. HooDoo Child

**Dean**

If I could, I would find a nice big black hole and shove the planet right into it. It's obviously trying to kill itself, at this point we might as well euthanize. The way things have been going, the world is boned the minuet Sam and I kick the bucket.

I'm sick of saving the damn world. I'm tired of always coming to the rescue. As weird as it sounds, I find myself longing for the good old days when my top worry was some vengeful spirit or a greedy shape shifter.

And then there's Jude. Her explanations are just excuses. She bailed on us and chose not to help out when we needed her the most. And all of a sudden, here she is fourteen years later, asking for help. I don't trust her. Why should I trust her? Or help her for that matter?

"It's not the end of the world," Jude attempts reassurance on the situation. "I mean, it could be kind of catastrophic, but not the end. And I'm really not asking for your help on this. Armageddon was your battle, this one is mine."

"What's with the army of the undead?" I can't help but ask. I'm not signing up for anything just yet. When anyone, sister or other, tells you to beware the growing troops of monsters, it provokes a few curious questions.

"Who's putting it together?" Sam has similar questions.

"Another natural witch," Jude informs us. "Goes by Topaz. I think her real name is Sarah."

"Let me guess," I say, watching my little sister take a swig of whiskey straight from the bottle. "She's the wicked witch of the west and you're the good witch?"

"Something like that, yes," Jude nods.

"You didn't drop a house on her sister, did you?"

"Cute," she speaks sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

"Why is she building armies?" Sam presses. "What's she after?"

"She's looking for a stone," Jude says as she returns her small sewing box to her worn back pack.

"What kind of stone?" I fish for details and she rolls her eyes again.

"Quit interrupting me and you'll find out," she says. "It's called the Blood Stone, which is actually a quartz crystal infused with blood."

"Who's blood?" Sam pops a question, causing a frustrated groan to escape her lips.

"You wanna know what's going on or not?" she grumbles and Sam nods. "Alright. Then shut up, let me talk and save all questions for the end of class." Pause. "Where was I?"

"You were about to tell us about the Blood Stone," I remind her.

"Right," she recalls. "It's maybe the size of a golf ball but extremely powerful. Like, become supreme overlord of the whole friggin' planet powerful. It hasn't seen the light of day in maybe five hundred years or so."

"So this Topaz witch is looking for it," I half assume, half state. "It doesn't really explain the army of creeps."

"That's actually what worries me," Jude admits. "She wouldn't need them unless she was about ready to conquer some serious territory."

"You think she's already found the stone?" Sammy questions with a hint of concern in his voice.

"It's possible," Jude nods. "She's been looking for it for a couple hundred years now."

"That's not a troubling thought," I mumble, helping myself to a swig of whiskey.

"Even if she has found it, she can't use it," she tries to explain. "There's one person on this entire planet that can use it and it's not her. I'm guessing she's figured out who it is and expects to fight for them."

"She wants to control the person who can use the stone," Sam speculates and Jude nods. "Why can only one person use it?"

"History lesson," Jude begins and I know we're about ready to hear a legend most people would brush off as cute fantasy lore. "The Blood Stone was created over five hundred years ago by a terrible old witch. She wasn't very powerful, not at first, and she became consumed by envy at the powers of others. She allowed it to fester for centuries, driving her to dark magic where she decided she would quench her constant thirst. For decades she hunted other witches, gods and demigods whose energy she stripped and collected in a single quartz.

"Close to a century went by before the greedy old hag decided she would bind this stone to her bloodline, assuring no other witch could ever use this powerful tool. She nearly completed the spell, too, when a hunter thwarted her attempts. A brutal fight occurred, at which point the hunter's blood managed to spill onto the quartz, binding the stone not to her bloodline but his. The witch noticed this and, before the hunter could strike her down, cursed the young man.  
'_Your first daughter shall be a powerful sorceress. She will find this stone and lead the world into an endless age of darkness and unspeakable horrors._'  
"Another witch got wind of this and took it upon herself to visit the young hunter. Grateful he had slain the witch responsible for her sister's death, this kind witch tried to remove his curse. Finding she could not, she improved upon it. She located another hunting clan who, like the young hunter's family, was famous for producing men. The witch bound this second line to the curse, proclaiming only when the young hunter's line fathered a daughter from this second clan would a powerful witch arise."

"You're thinking these families have crossed paths?" the question falls from my lips without really giving the story much thought.

"Dude," Sammy speaks up. "Don't you get it? She's the witch."

Of course she is.

"Seriously?" I eye Jude who nods.

"It makes sense, right?" she says. "You were Michael's sword, Sam was demon boy. You didn't think your little sister could escape the Winchester curse?"

Unfortunately, in our world, it makes too much sense.

"Okay," I try to digest this. "So, what you're telling us is this Topaz witch has a special magical stone only you can use, and she's built an army to find you so she can persuade you into using it to take over the world?"

"That about sums it up," Jude nods. "I think the army's pretty multipurpose though."

"And you're 'not asking for help'?" Sam is somewhat suspicious.

"You make it sound like it's a thousand against one," she says. "I'm not exactly alone on this. We've got our own army."

"Who's we?" I inquire.

"Other witches," she explains simply. "A few hunters. A couple pagan gods and demigods and... don't laugh at this but, fairies."

The thought of an army of fairies is laughable. Then again, before I knew Heaven even existed, the thought of angels kind of made me laugh too.

"Really," she continues. "I didn't come here to ask you for help. I really did come to say hello and give you a heads up."

"Oh, come on, Jude," Sammy speaks. "You can't just tell us about all this crap and not expect us to get involved."

"Speak for yourself," I grumble and Sam's brows crease. "What? I'm sick of coming to the world's rescue. She didn't help us the last three friggin' times, why should we help her on this one?"

"Dean's right," Jude quietly agrees, but Sammy doesn't.

"He's just a little pissed off right now," he says. "And you just came back into our lives. You think I'm just going to let you walk out so you can get killed?"

"Oh, Sam," Jude smiles. "My life is much too valuable right now. I'm not the one in danger. It's you who would be risking their life if you join me. I can't ask you to do that, not after what I did to you."

"Then I'll have to insist," Sam remains persistent.

"I can't make you stay," Jude speaks. "We could use all the help we can get. Just as long as you know what you're in for."

"Dean?" Sammy sends a hopeful look in my direction, half expecting me to jump on board.

Not this time.

"No," I state in a flat, gruff voice.

"Dean," Sam attempts to plead with me. "We can't just let her do this without us. She's our sister. You used to say nothing was more important than family."

"She's the one who walked out on this family," I growl. "If you want to go, fine. But you're on your own."


	4. Sibling Swap

**Sam**

We part ways at sunrise, Dean sullenly speeding eastward in dad's old Impala.

"He'll call by the time he's passed through a couple states," I attempt to comfort Jude. "He just needs to blow off a little steam."

She remains silent, watching as the black car drives into the rising sun and disappears beyond a small hill on the horizon.

"Either way," she sighs, passing her black shell helmet to me. "At least you forgive me."

If you're wondering, I do forgive her. I've died enough times to know life is too short to hold a grudge. I am still a bit mad at her and, really, who could blame me? She did kind of just disappear for a good decade plus some and there were a lot of battles we could have used her help with. I know these are things that still fuel Dean's inability to forgive her, which is kind of funny if you really think about it. Say she did stick around and she was there for the whole thing. Would Dean have wanted her there, duking it out with old Yellow Eyes? Or Lucifer? Or the Leviathans? Experience says he would have fought tooth and nail to make sure Jude stayed out of those fights.

"I'm just glad I get to see you again," I tell her. "And remember you. Promise me you'll never do that to me again."

"I swear," she vows. "Now hop on. I've got people to see and places to be."

"Do I really have to ride bitch?" I groan, placing the helmet over my long growing hair.

"Do you know how to drive a Harley?" she challenges.

"Yes... er, um... no."

"Well, unless you can pull another seat out of your butt, you're stuck riding bitch," she gives me the bad news. "Don't worry, I've got a car stashed in a garage about eight hours from here, six if you don't mind a little extra speed."

"Whatever I guess," I shrug and, with that, we hit the road west.

Our journey we make mostly in silence, save for the loud hum of the bike's engine and the rush of wind as we swiftly weave our way past other motorists. We reach Cleveland and her rental garage just after noon where, as promised, Jude trades her Harley for a jet black, near mint 1970 Pontiac GTO. When she pops the trunk open, she shows me the hidden compartment where she stores her own little armory that looks incredibly similar to the one Dean carries. The only difference is, on top of the multitude of weaponry, are the several jars of herbs, roots and a small assortment of mystical trinkets.

"No crystal ball?" I joke, making light of her abilities.

"I'm a witch, not a psychic," she rolls her eyes. "Anyway, that crystal stuff's bull shit. Most of 'em are just fancy rocks."

"So, you've been hunting this whole time?" I inquire about the weapons as she latches everything back up.

"Hunting, researching, gathering," she gives me a vague list, making her way to the driver's door. "Poker. Pool."

"Sticking to the family basics?" I joke, shoving my back pack into the back seat before I slide my tall frame into my sister's classic muscle car. My eyes scan the dash and notice that, while most of the car seems to have it's original parts, she's replaced the radio with a CD player and an MP3 hook up. And just when I'm thinking it's good to see at least one of my siblings has embraced the 21st century, Jude starts the engine and the speakers begin to leak the sounds of some punk band at an ear splitting volume.

"I almost forgot," I begin once she's turned it down enough to converse without shouting. "Your taste is music is worse than Dean's."

"Bah," she waves a hand as she speeds away under the midday sun. "Who asked you? Anyway, who would you rather be listening to right now? Norah Jones?"

"I like her," I admit with a shrug and Jude laughs, steering her car towards the interstate where she takes the northbound route.

"I don't have anything by her," she tells me. "But if you find something you'd rather listen to, be my guest."

I don't hesitate to take her up on this offer, gleefully looking through the eccentric music choices she carries with her. She has something from every genre known to man, minus Polka, Peruvian pan flute and techno. Not only does Dean never let me pick the music, his selection is a lot more limited. And they're all on cassette for cripe's sake.

"So where are we going anyway?" I can't help but wonder as I select an indie rock band as the afternoon's highway anthem.

"At some point we'll be driving out to Washington," she tells me. "Right now I gotta swing by Detroit and see if I can pick up another player."

"Another witch?" I guess and Jude nods.

"I've got a question," I begin and Jude cocks a brow at this.

"Oh?" she speaks, her eyes on the road before her. "Just one?"

"Okay, several," I correct myself. "You mentioned something about gods and demigods last night. What's their involvement?"

"It depends on who you ask," she tries to field my first of many questions. "They've all got their own reasons. Some don't want to see the world fall into darkness. Other's simply don't wish to serve a temperamental witch."

"So, what's with the armies?" I have to ask. "Is there going to be a war?"

"It certainly looks that way," Jude admits with a small sigh. "A supernatural civil war, as it were."

"Why is Topaz using the undead?" is my third question.

"Why wouldn't she?" Jude replies. "First of all, they're mostly disposable. It's a hell of a lot easier to make a few more zombies than it is to find a few more witches or general assholes. Second, a lot of them actually want this to happen. If Topaz can pull this off, that means a world where vampires and wraiths don't have to hide in the shadows and cover their tracks. Zombies can freely roam the streets and those skank Satan witches can practice their black magic in broad daylight. Hunters become very much the hunted."

"And you're the key to all of this?" I ask and Jude lets out another sigh.

"Yep," she confirms. "Looks like it's my turn to stop myself from destroying the world."

I'm all too familiar with what that feels like.

The remaining couple of hours it takes us to reach Detroit is spent in casual conversation. She asks me about college, I ask her about her HooDoo. We swap hunting stories and humorous antidotes until we reach the motor city and all its broken splendor. Jude rolls slowly through residential neighborhoods, carefully avoiding the ghettos until she finds a small, two story blue house and parks out front.

"Fair warning," Jude tells me as we climb out of her car and slowly make our way up the cracked front walk. "This is probably going to be awkward."

"Awkward for who?" I have to ask.

"All of us," is what I'm told as my sister pushes the doorbell.

I don't really have time to ponder what exactly this means as the door flies open almost immediately. A young, trim looking blue eyed woman with long blonde hair steps out onto the front porch wearing a flowing brown skirt and a tie-dye tank top under a long white sweater. She looks to us with little to no recognition which does not stop the soft, kind smile that spreads across her oval shaped face.

"Are you here for herbs?" she asks us.

For a minuet, no one says anything. Jude stares at the hippie with a sorrowful look in her eyes before she places her hands around the woman's head.

Looks like we're not the only ones who got Spotless Minded by my big sister.

"Jude," the young woman whispers when she remembers, the expression on her face a mixture of shock, anger and... heartache?

"Hey, Stella," Jude says, hanging her head.

"What are you doing here?" the blonde asks.

She was right. This is going to be awkward, at least for them. They clearly have some kind of history.

"I didn't want to come," my sister begins. "And I wouldn't have if it weren't really, really big."

"Let me guess," Stella folds her arms across her chest as her friendly demeanor practically disappears. "You need help?"

"Well, sort of," Jude begins.

"You broke my heart," Stella all but spits. "You expect me to help you after you walked out on me? On us?"

Hey, look. Now I'm part of the awkward club.

"We talked about that," Jude sighs. "And I'm not expecting anything. I just want you to know what's going on. You can make up your mind if you're going to join us or not."

Stella studies my sister for a while longer before glancing over me and I can't tell if she's sizing me up or attempting to read my mind. Neither would surprise me.

"Who's this?" she asks at last, uncertain if she should feel jealous.

"This is Sam," Jude introduces us. "My brother. Sam, this is Stella. My... um... ex."

So, my sister likes girls. I think what I'm more surprised about is how I found this out. You know, by being introduced to her ex. She was always a bit of a tomboy and, honestly, I don't think I would have been surprised either way.

"Nice to meet you," I attempt to break the thick tension.

"Yeah, you too," she barely looks at me as she speaks, her sky blue eyes locked on my sister. "Well? What's going on then?"

"You think we could come in for a minuet?" Jude asks hopefully as Stella shakes her head.

"I don't think so, Jude," the hippie says. "You have five minuets to tell me what's so damn important you had to drive all the way up here to break my blissful lack of memory."

"Fine," Jude rolls her eyes and gives her ex the abridged version of what's about to transpire. Stella listens, her arms folded the entire time as she silently chews over what the future might have in store for her.

"Like I said," Jude goes on once she has reported the threat. "It's up to you what you want to do. You don't have to help, but you should know that, at some point, you will have to take a side."

"Can I... can I think about it?" Stella wants to know, hesitant to jump right on board with her ex girlfriend.

"Of course," Jude says. "Take your time. You know how to find me."

And that's it. This is what we came to Detroit for. An uncomfortable reunion and a five minuet head's up on impending doom.

I'm guessing Jude can't replace memories via telephone.

"Take care of yourself, Stella," Jude tells the hippie with a soft, half smile before we stroll back to the GTO, leaving Stella on the front porch to watch us depart.

"So, you like girls," I comment once we're back on the road.

"You don't sound all that surprised," Jude notices and I shrug.

"I'm not," I don't deny it. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"One closet at a time," she responds. "I didn't really think it mattered. It's not a big deal. I like who I like."

"Fair enough," I nod. "What happened between you two anyway?"

I can't deny I'm curious. Whatever it was, it seemed heavy. Or dramatic. Probably both.

"Same thing that happens to most hunters," Jude replies. "We had a good couple of years together but, eventually, you gotta chose. Not that I wouldn't have chosen her. I would have. But, you know as well as I do, at the end of the day, we don't actually get to make that decision. We're Winchester's. We have one job and we don't get to quit it."

It's kind of hard to argue with truth. It sounds a bit sad but first hand experience can tell you it's not an exaggeration and it's not a myth. Sure we can squeeze in a prolonged vacation when sanity reaches the brink, so long as the world's not about to end, but there's no throwing in the towel. No two weeks notice or retiring. The day we get our pink slip is the day we die.

It's just the way it is. The Winchester name carries a lot of weight on its shoulders. A lot of weight and a lot of curses.


	5. Turn Around

**Dean**

I can't believe he chose her over me. After all we've been through, and after what she did to us. It's not fair.

I forcefully feed a Black Sabbath cassette into the player and crank up the volume, attempting to drown the anger with loud, fast tunes. I don't even know where I'm going, but I'm getting there fast. Maybe I should call up that Garth guy, see if he has any open cases in the area. I really feel like punching something's face in right now.

Between my rattling mind and the excessively loud music, I barely hear my phone ringing from my jacket pocket. When I do, I accept the unknown call at the last possible second, lowering the volume on my stereo before I bring the black object to my ear.

"What?" is how I answer, for some reason assuming Sam had given Jude my number.

"Hello you to you, brother," the slow, southern drawl returns my short greeting and I sigh.

"Sorry, Benny," I apologize. "I thought you were someone else. Look, this isn't the greatest time..."

"No worries, brother," Benny smoothly cuts me off. "I won't keep ya long. Just wanted to let you know I heard a rumor about some vampire army. Thought you might want to look into that."

"Yeah, thanks," I roll my eyes. "I already got that tip."

"What's eatin' ya, brother?" Benny wants to know. "You sound a little wound up."

"Yeah," I groan, my eyes on the road that cuts a clean path through a dense forest. "Long story short, surprise visit from my estranged sister."

"I didn't know you had a sister," Benny sounds as surprised as I was when I first remembered.

"That's where the story gets long," I inform him. "Anyway, Sam took off with her."

"Ouch," my friend from Purgatory seems to sympathize. "I'm real sorry, brother. He musta had a good reason. What're they after?"

"That vampire army you mentioned," I tell him, finding mild comfort in conversation. "It's not just vamps. It's wraiths and zombies and a mixed bag of dark magic dick wads."

"Damn," I can hear Benny mutter. "I was hopin' it was just a rumor, too. Do I even wanna know what's goin' on?"

"Probably not," I say, but I tell him anyway. "Sounds like they're looking for my sister, though. Story has it, she's the only one who can use some kinda rock or crystal or something."

"The Blood Stone?" Benny murmurs into the phone. "Your sister's a witch? Your sister's _that_ witch?"

"I take it you've heard of her," I assume.

"Look, Dean," Benny's light tone hardens into something far more serious. "You can't let them find her."

"She's a good hunter," I say. "Sammy's with her. They can take care of each other."

"No, Dean," Benny continues in his firm voice. "You don't understand. You really can't let them find her."

"Look, Benny," I try to explain. "She's a big girl. She doesn't need me and I sure as hell am not helping after what she did..."

"Then pretend she ain't your kin," Benny half suggests, half instructs me. "Or suck up whatever family drama you got goin'. Either way, you need to turn that car of yours around and go to her."

"Seriously, Benny..."

I trail off when I have to slam on the breaks to avoid striking down a random stranger who stands with his back turned to me in the middle of my lane. It takes me about point two seconds to recognize the filthy, tan trench coat and brown hair.

Cas?

"Dean?" I can hear Benny's voice on the other line. "Ya there, brother?"

I blink and the figure is gone. When I glance around at the peaceful scenery that surrounds me, I find that I am alone on this stretch of pavement.

"Uh, yeah," I squeeze my eyelids shut for a moment, blinking back out over the still vacant road. "I just thought I saw..."

"Hello, Dean."

"Son of a...!" I shout, my phone sliding from my grip and into my lap at this completely unexpected surprise.

In the passenger seat sits the one, the only, Castiel, dressed in his dirty old hospital rags and that stupid trench coat. Dirt practically coats his face, blood smears the thick stubble that grows along his chin and something green has stained his shirt. He looks tired, haggard and a little lost.

"Dean?" I can hear Benny again and I reach for my phone, my eyes unblinkingly set upon my friend.

"Hey, Benny," I speak absently. "Let me call you back."

I end the call and debate whether or not I should hug the guy who smells like he crawled out of a toilet.

"Cas," I say at last, finding a relieving smile that pulls at my lips. "You're... how'd you make it back?"

"I'm not sure," he tells me and I could swear he looks disappointed to be here.

"It's good to see you," I tell him. "I wasn't sure if I ever would again."

"Where's Sam?" he asks me, completely ignoring my last statement. "I was sure you would reunite once you resurfaced."

"Yeah, we did," I grumble, slowly continuing my drive to nowhere specific. "He took off with a chick named Jude."

He furrows his brow at this information, the name familiar to my old friend.

"Jude?" he echoes. "Your sister?"

"Yeah," I say, my own brows folding into a frown. "You know about her?"

"Of course I do," Cas nods. "She was the recipient of the Winchester curse."

"Okay, how do you know about _that_?" I demand to know.

"All the angels know about it," he goes on casually. "There were three reasons your parent's union was essential to the order; you, Sam and Gloria, or, Jude as you call her."

"That doesn't make any sense," I shake my head. "I mean, okay. I get Sammy and me. Vessels, right? What about Jude? They were aware she was going to be a witch, right?"

"Very much so," Cas nods. "Jude served a few purposes. As a Winchester, she could have been used as an extra vessel for either side. Had the Apocalypse gone as planned, she was to be used to revive you and your brother."

"You're telling me one little witch was needed to do something a butt load of angels wouldn't be able to do?" I question suspiciously and Cas shrugs.

"Not alone," he says. "But with the Blood Stone she would have been able to bring her brother's back to life. Which would have, of course, cost her own life."

"Why am I just now hearing about all this?" I want to know, my fist making contact with the steering wheel in a fit of frustration. "Why did it not cross your mind at any point during any of this crap to tell me?"

"I don't know," Cas shrugs. "We were under strict orders not to mention her, I suppose the warning stuck. You were never supposed to remember her. Not in life. It makes sense she's come back, now that no one is dictating the future." Pause. "Why has she returned to your life anyway?"

"Oh, you know," I sigh. "Just the end of the world. Again."

Castiel sends me a puzzled expression, wordlessly asking me to explain myself.

"She came by to warn us about some gathering army of the undead," I tell him. "A witch, goes by the name Topaz, is putting this elaborate thing together."

"What thing?" Cas wants details.

"Jude thinks this Topaz character has the Blood Stone," I share and his face falls.

"Dean, you must go to her," he orders me.

"What, seriously?" I groan. "You too? Fine, the first decade of her absence was dictated by that evil bitch Fate. I get that. But where's she been since then, huh? You know what it's like to go on though life thinking your missing someone, come to find out it's your own friggin' sister? And she's the one who made you feel that way in the first damn place?"

"You don't understand," Castiel shakes his head. "Topaz cannot find your sister."

"I keep hearing that," I state. "But no one's been able to provide a reason as to why I should give a damn."

"Your sister's strong," Cas tells me. "Topaz is stronger and about five hundred years older than Jude."

"So?" I shrug. "She can't use the Blood Stone."

"No," Cas agrees. "But she can manipulate your sister into using it to do her own bidding."

"Cas, I can't..."

"You cannot imagine the horrors Topaz would unleash upon the world," he cuts me off. "Your sister is not the one whose in terrible danger. It's everyone else on this planet."

Of freaking course it is.

"Alright," I accept this tiny detail. "Fine. Say Topaz gets Jude to grab the stone. Isn't this thing one of the most powerful objects on the planet?" I pause to allow Cas to nod his response. "Well, then Jude can just break free from Topaz's mind screw and use the thing for good."

"As euphoric as that idea sounds," Cas is about to take the wind out of my sails. "It's highly improbable. Sure, Jude could easily break Topaz's mind control with the Blood Stone. But then she'll have to battle the evils that come along with excessive power like that. More likely than not, it would consume her and she would misuse it in ways equal to what Topaz plans. Please, Dean, go to her. Topaz cannot find her."

Alright, fine. I'll put the friggin' cape back on and save the damn world. A-friggin'-gain. Swear to friggin' god, this is the last friggin' time.

Begrudgingly I withdraw my phone from the depths of my jacket pocket as I make a sudden and sharp U-turn.

"Hey, Sammy," I speak once my brother picks up on the other line. "Where are you guys?"


	6. Cloud 9

**Castiel**

Despite what I told Dean, I do remember how I got out of Purgatory. It was fantastically unepic. A small brigade of my brothers and sisters from the Garrison came charging in, scooped me up and left me in the middle of nowhere which, coincidentally, happened to be where Dean was.

Except I'm almost positive that wasn't a coincidence.

Especially when your rescuers tell you they'll be back to collect payment for said rescue. That usually means being assigned a mission of sorts. Given the first person I saw on this side of reality, I'd guess it has something to do with him. If not, they're going to want me to involve him in some way.

I wish they had left me alone. Purgatory was no, as you say, walk in the park. It was vile, torturous and dangerous. Which was perfect. I was receiving a well deserved punishment that was far from over. No chore Heaven has for me will ever redeem my devastating misdeeds.

I stick with Dean as he drives his Impala west throughout the remainder of the day and, when night falls, he keeps driving. I have nothing else to be doing and no where else to go. I can't go home. It doesn't exist for me anymore. Besides, I think Dean appreciates my company, as sullen as we both are.

We reach the motel where Sam said he and their sister were staying just before the sun has a chance to chase away the stars. Dean tracks down room 19 and gives a loud knock, finding no hesitance at the volume our arrival is creating at the early hour. It takes a few minuets before we hear someone stirring from within the room and a minuet longer for them to make it to the door.

The maroon colored door finally begins to slide open and, when she exposes herself to us, everything goes dark. Everything except her. She stands before us, her soft skin aglow, her silky dark brown hair tumbling elegantly around her shoulders as her unique eyes sparkle at us. She is dressed only in a tight fitting gray t-shirt that reads "Sublime" and a pair of black lace underwear.

For a minuet I think I've gone positively insane. I can almost hear a heavenly choir ringing in my ears, as if my brothers and sisters are praising her stunning beauty. Quite suddenly I'm very aware of my appearance and, for the first time in my very long life, I feel inadequate in the presence of a human being. As if I should have shaved the growing stubble that claims my dirty face or, at the very least, changed out of the soiled asylum garb I still wear.

"Aw, Jude," Dean moans, shielding his eyes from his drop dead gorgeous sister's half naked body. "Put some pants on."

"Like you haven't seen me in my underwear before," she rolls her eyes. "Who's your friend?"

"Castiel," Dean introduces us.

"The angel," she states. "Hi. I'm Jude."

She extends her hand for me to shake and I stare at it, nervous to place my filthy, bloodied hand inside her clean, perfect one.

"Nice to meet you?" she says when I remain motionless. "Well, come on in. I doubt you drove all this way to stand in the doorway."

She stands aside to let us through and I can hear my rapidly beating heart as I pass her. Dean eyes me with a mild amusement that clashes with a growing urge to protect his younger sibling. I'm not sure what he feels like he needs to protect her from, but his defenses are on the rise.

"Dude," he whispers to me in a low growl. "That's my sister. Pick you jaw up."

"I haven't dropped it," is what I respond with, taking his comment quite literally.

"So, Castiel," Jude begins with a low tone, attempting to allow Sam the luxury of sleep.

"Cas," I'm quick to correct her. "My friends call me Cas."

"Okay," she says. "Cas. How'd you claw your way out of Purgatory? You must have one wild story."

"It was easier than you'd imagine," I state, hoping to impress her with a fearless attitude.

"Let me guess," she speaks when I do not indulge her in the boring details. "A story for another time?"

I give her a smile that must look completely silly to Dean.

"Seriously, Jude," he groans. "Put some friggin' pants on. You're distracting Cas."

"Oh, please," Jude rolls her eyes again as she slowly gathers a pair of black jeans from the tangle of sheets that lay on the unoccupied bed. "He's an angel. You've probably seen thousands of women in their unmentionables, right Cas?"

"Huh? Oh, er, yes," my tongue fumbles over my own words as I watch her pull these black pants over her bare legs. "Thousands."

What the hell is wrong with me? I must still be disillusioned from being mysteriously pulled from Purgatory. I've never found myself nervous around, well, much of anything really, especially not around a human.

"I'm glad you decided to join us," Jude continues, turning to Dean. "I was afraid I'd never see you again."

"I had a little encouragement from a friend," Dean informs her. "This doesn't mean I forgive you."

"I didn't think it did," Jude tells him. "I'm just glad you're at least speaking to me." She pauses to glance over Sam who sleeps peacefully beneath the thin white sheets of his own bed. "I was going to let him sleep in. You boys need anything while we wait? TV? Whiskey? Shower?"

"I'll take a swig of whiskey," Dean accepts her offer, happily accepting the clear liquor bottle when she extends it in his direction.

"Cas?" she wants to know if I'd like anything.

My answer becomes delayed when I find myself gazing into her gem hued eyes. I stare longingly at her full, defined lips, wildly hoping she will offer to place them upon mine. I probably would have stayed in my trance like state had it not been for the sharp jab Dean's elbow gives to my ribcage.

"N-no," I stammer at last, feeling the fleeting pangs of embarrassment upon realizing what I had been doing. "I am comfortable."

"You sure?" Jude pleasantly challenges. "No offense, handsome, but you look like you could use a hot shower."

"More like a cold shower," Dean mutters under his breath with a hint of annoyance laced throughout his tone.

She called me handsome. My heart sings with joy.

"Um, sure," I say at last.

"Bathroom's around the corner," she tells me when I continue my awkward stares and I can feel my cheeks growing hot.

"Right," I slowly say, a bit hesitant.

"You know how to work a shower don't you, Cas?" Dean asks and I shrug.

"I'm sure it's fairly simple," I reply.

"Wait, you've never taken a shower before?" Jude finds amusement in this.

"No," I admit. "I've never needed one until now."

"That's a matter of opinion," Dean comments, speaking into the whiskey bottle between sips.

"Come on," Jude dismisses her brother's observations and takes a gentile hold of my arm. "I'll show you everything you need."

My heart skips a beat or five as she leads me to the small, cream colored bathroom and flicks on the light. She gives me a short tutorial on the simple task of bathing, showing me how to control the temperature, where to apply soap and which towels work the best.

"Just holler if you need anything," she tells me kindly. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Thank you," I manage to choke out through my tightened throat before she can latch the door, leaving me alone with my thoughts. And, while I clean the Purgatory off of me, I have some really strange thoughts.

Angels don't normally dream, mostly because we do not sleep. We were also built to follow orders which means we have little imagination to allow us the simple pleasure. Imagine, if you will, how strange I find the subtle visions my own mind produces of her. And me. Things that never have nor will transpire. I fantasize about rescuing her from a small army of demons. About taking her to places few humans have ever been across the globe. About those smooth, perfect pink lips upon mine...

I've said too much.

What is wrong with me?

I finish my shower and dry myself, not requiring the use of a towel. Before I can return to my grimy hospital issued clothing, I hear a soft knock on the door.

"Hey, Cas," Jude's soft voice calls out. "Are you decent?"

"Decent at what?" I ask and I can hear her smile.

"Are you covered?" she clarifies herself. "You know, around the waist?"

"Oh, um, yes," I fumble as I swiftly tie a long, white towel around my hips. "You may come in."

She cracks the door open and when she notices I am "decent" she enters with a short stack of clean clothing.

"I convinced Dean to let you use these," she tells me, extending the clothing for me to take.

I reach out and, once I can feel the soft cotton materials beneath my finger tips, I'm wearing an outfit I've seen my friend wear in the past. It feels strange wearing Dean's clothing. Not necessarily because they're Dean's, but rather because I grew so used to wearing that business suit and then the comfortable blue hospital ensemble. It's surprisingly comfortable despite its loose fit, this blue and white plaid shirt and these dark denim jeans.

I take a quick glance at my reflection in the bathroom mirror and I almost laugh.

"I look like a lumberjack," I observe.

"I like it," she tells me. "You look rugged."

"Rugged is a good thing?" I want to know.

"Depends on who you ask," she shrugs. "Most women find it attractive, if that's what you mean."

"Should I shave?" I ponder aloud. I don't know why I'm saying these things. I don't even know why I'm concerned about matters so insignificant and trivial as appearance.

"Naw," she rejects the idea. "It kinda goes with the outfit."

Yes. The rugged thing. Good to know. Maybe I should get an ax? That's rugged, right?

Why am I thinking about that?

_What is wrong with me?_

"Where's Dean?" I notice his absence as I join Jude in the main room.

"I gave him some quarters and told him to find a laundromat," she tells me, sitting cross legged upon her bed with an assortment of colored objects I've come to learn is called makeup. "Your coat looked a little dirty."

How kind of her.

I take a seat in one of the uncomfortable motel chairs near a plywood desk where I resume my gaze upon the creature that disorients and confuses me. She takes out a small mirror and carefully outlines her vivid eyes in black with a pencil.

"Surely you do not need to cover your face," I comment, watching as she strokes a short, round brush across her eyelashes, painting them black.

"You're sweet," she tells me as she carefully applies these products to her face. "But I like it. Besides, it's easier to win at pool when I'm wearing it, if you know what I mean."

I think I do.

"Is that how you make your money?" I inquire, familiar with the game and how Dean earns his cash.

"Kinda goes along with the family business," she tells me before she paints her lips a fire engine red. "There. See? I went from pretty to pretty damn hot."

I study her slightly altered appearance and smile.

"It's not bad," I admit. "Either way, you are stunning."

Did I just say that? Out loud?

_**WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?**_


	7. The A Team

**Dean**

"Either way, you are stunning."

This is what I come back to. My best friend, the angel, hitting on my sister, the witch. There are so many things wrong with this.

"Hey, Dean," Jude greets me casually as she crams an assortment of makeup into a small bag. "That was suspiciously fast."

"Would you believe me if I said nothing around here is open at five in the morning?" I say.

"Right," she nods. "Them's Podunk towns for ya."

I stare down Cas for a minuet. I don't know what he's up to. Hell, he probably doesn't even know what he's up to. Whatever it is, I don't like it. And I don't like that he's doing it dressed like me.

"How's you arm feeling?" Jude inquires curiously as she packs her belongings into her black back pack.

I've been so distracted with my own thoughts I almost completely forgot about the stitches.

"Good," I report. A little too good, actually. I can't feel it anymore, which is probably bad considering how fresh my wounds still are.

This is going to bug me until I check it out, so I remove my jacket. Carefully I slip my left arm from the long blue sleeve that covers it and I'm not entirely sure what to make of what I find. Or, rather, don't find.

"What did you to do me?"

The question comes out with little thought. You can't really blame me. I'm focused on the fact that less than 30 hours ago I had green stitches holding together two sizable gashes and now there's nothing, not even a scratch or a scar. Nothing that would indicate I had a recent run in with a werewolf.

"You're welcome," Jude fires back, her tone insisting she's done me a favor.

"Did you put some kind of spell on me?" I ask accusingly.

"Paranoid much?" she rolls her eyes. "The thread I used is a combination of healing herbs, roots and a little mystical encouragement." Pause. "You need to get over the fact that I'm a witch. Cursed, remember?"

She has a point but I'm not going to give her the satisfaction of admitting I may have been wrong.

"Whatever," she rolls her eyes when I don't say anything. "I'm going on a coffee run. I'll be back in a few."

She slams the door behind her on her way out, something that slowly brings Sammy to the waking world.

"Have you two always clashed like this?" Castiel asks out of curiosity and I sigh.

"Not always," I shake my head. "We've been pretty civil the last fourteen years."

Get it? Cause she was AWOL.

Okay, that might be a bit of an exaggeration. We did fight quite a bit, partially because that's what siblings that close in age do and partially because she was the rebel which, in my family, is saying something. And when you're the one around more than dad, you're the one who does the arguing. But we did love each other. We still do. And I would have done anything to protect her. I probably still would. I'm not just here because Benny and Cas begged me to come to her. I really should make sure Jude makes it out of this one okay.

"Dean?" I hear Sam as he gradually sits up. "That was fast." Pause. "Cas?"

He sleepily rubs his eyes before he blinks over at the angel who slowly rises from his seat in the motel chair.

"Hello, Sam," Cas greets my brother with his usual less-than-excited, deep tone.

"Holy crap," Sam swings his long legs over the bed. "How did you get out of Purgatory? And why are you dressed like a lumberjack?"

"I knew it," Cas mutters to himself.

"We're suddenly giving a crap about what we look like?" Sam finds this all very intriguing. "What the hell happened in Purgatory?"

"It wasn't Purgatory," I inform my little brother. "It was our sister."

"What?" Sam squints, trying to draw the picture from my vague statement.

"Cas here's got himself a little crush on Jude," I announce, something that provokes a slow, amused smile to cross Sam's lips.

"That's cute," he comments, stretching his long arms before rising to his feet. "And really interesting. But I think you're barking up the wrong tree."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask while Sam slowly gathers his belongings.

"I met one of Jude's ex's yesterday," he begins with a little yawn. "Her name is Stella."

"Her?" I echo.

"Yeah," Sam nods. "I'm pretty sure Jude's into chicks."

Cas, though somewhat disappointed by this, seems more intrigued than anything. Me, I'm... well... yeah, I'm not that surprised. I could have seen it going either way with her. Sure she's always been a tomboy but it's kind of hard to say what caused that; nature or the fact she grew up in a male dominant setting.

I don't bring it up when Jude returns a few minuets later, bearing a large, styrofoam cup of hot coffee for everyone. Castiel, despite his lack of need for the caffeine, graciously accepts the kind gesture from my sister before he continues staring at her with that dopey grin. Apparently learning my sister's into girls hasn't effected Cas's obvious attractions to her, something Sam gets a kick out of. I'm still less than amused.

"So, what's the plan then?" I ask Jude.

"There's a meeting in five days in Washington," she informs me. "We've got a bit of a base camp set up there."

Oh, good, a base camp. That doesn't sound warlike at all.

"We'll figure out what to do from there," she continues. "If you know any hunters out of the loop, you might want to fill them in."

"Good idea," I agree. "One call to Garth and half the hunters in the states will get the memo."

"Sounds good," Jude nods. "You want to follow me or should I follow you?"

My brows furrow into a small frown.

"What do you mean?" I ask. "I thought we'd all take the Impala."

"Seriously?" Jude's own brows fold in disagreement. "You really think I'm going to leave my car in the middle of nowhere?"

"Well, no," I admit. "I figured you'd have a place to stash it so we could all go out there together."

If this is as serious as Benny and Cas say it is, I'm not letting her out of my sights. Combine that with the fact my anger has settled, there's this nagging urge that screams at me to protect my little sister. Family comes first. It always has. I remember that now.

That and, honestly, I'm a little scared she'll leave again.

"I don't get you, Dean," Jude speaks with an aggravated tone. "One minuet you're trying to get as far away from me as possible, and the next you don't want me out of your sight."

"Call it a breakthrough," I grumble. "Whatever's coming, it's big. I'm your brother. I'm supposed to protect you."

Her hardened expression softens as she ponders this statement.

"I know a guy near Duluth," she slowly agrees. "He owes me a favor. We could make it there before the day's done."

Seems like a reasonable compromise.

I agree so we load up and head out, Cas and I tailing Jude and Sam as they head north in her black, 70's model GTO at high speeds.

"What's wrong with you, man?" I ask Cas who stares dreamily out the window at the early morning sky.

"I'm not entirely sure," he shakes his head. "Your sister... she's very captivating."

I roll my eyes.

"Forget it, Cas," I say as my cell phone erupts from somewhere within my jacket pocket. "You heard what Sam said." I pause to fish my phone out, glancing at the caller ID once I've retrieved it. Garth. "Besides, you're an angel. She's a witch who just happens to be be my little sister. Garth, man, you're just the person I need to talk to."

"Great," Garth's voice speaks hastily from his end. "Me first. Where are you?"

"Illinois," I inform him. "Headed up to Duluth."

"Perfect," Garth says. "Looks like there's a bit of a vampire problem up there. You think you and Sam can take care of it?"

"Uh, yeah," I say. "Sure."

"Is it me or are there a lot more vamps these days?" Garth questions. "Zombies, too, man. It's weird."

"This is just the beginning," I inform him. "Shit's about to get a lot weirder. I need you to get a message out to all the hunters you know, ASAP."

"Is it a message or a warning?" Garth asks with a hesitant suspicion.

"Both," I reply.

"What's going on?" he wants to know. "It's big, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"What is it?" he's dying to know.

"War."


	8. Tall Tale

**Jude**

Hi there. We met a hand full of chapters back. I'm Sam and Dean's sister and I go by Jude. Legally, my name is Gloria Jude Winchester. Although, if you want to go into detail and get all technical, Gloria Jude Winchester is legally dead. I've got a death certificate and everything, same as Dean and Sam. But that's a story for another time. Right now, this is the story to worry about. From the sounds of it, things are about to get messy.

Dean informs me of a vamp issue in Duluth and I know this isn't going to be an ordinary vampire hunt, nor will it be your average nest. I'm no dummy. Growing armies need recruits. I'd be willing to wager this nest is swarming with freshly turned monsters. The insane "missing persons" rate in this city (twenty in the last week by this Garth person's count) confirms my theory.

Before we can make good on our promise to Garth, I have to make good on my promise to Dean. Truth be told, there were a few places along our north western trail that would have served a suitable place to leave my GTO. I've got my reasons as to why this particular place called out to me as the best spot to leave my car.

Reason one, it's in the middle of nowhere. The entrance to this property is marked by a rusty old mailbox that reads Bunyan in thick, faded orange letters and a two track that's almost completely hidden by an overgrowth of weeds, grass and wild grape vines. Had Dean not been following me in his Impala, he'd have never found the place himself.

Reason two, after a mile of chewed up two track, there's a massive green pole barn that sits beside a cozy, rustic two story cabin, all of which is surrounded by a dense, thriving forest. The barn serves as a shield from the elements, while the canopy of tall growing trees provides a natural camouflage from unwanted eyes. Considering we're closer to winter than summer, no one, living or dead, is going to want to drive a Pontiac GTO from the middle of nowhere with snow on the ground, much less go looking for one.

Reason three stands, on average, at around seven feet, four inches tall and lumbers towards us from his home which suddenly looks a lot smaller when you know who resides here. Few people know he lives here and even less feel compelled to mess with him or his things in any way, shape or form. There's also the fact he could be a valuable player in this upcoming war and I'd like to ask him in person. Not that he's allergic to phones, I just think he would respond better to a personal invitation and, honestly, I kind of miss him.

"Now that is a lumberjack," I hear Dean comment to Cas as the four of us climb out of our vehicles and watch the giant, who happens to be mostly gentile, as he quickly approaches us. He wouldn't be wrong. My friend was heavily involved with the logging industry for some time back in the day and still dresses as such; red plaid shirt tucked into a pair of sturdy denim jeans that are held in place by a pair of dark red suspenders. His thick black hair is covered by a black knit cap and heavy black boots protect his feet. He sports a thick, well trimmed black beard that covers a better portion of his face below his large nose and a set of soft, dark eyes.

"Jude?" his deep, scratchy voice calls to me and, when he sees it's truly me, he spreads his incredibly long arms open.

"Paul!" I return with a note of excitement, happily accepting his warm embrace by wrapping my much smaller arms around his mammoth frame.

"I missed you, darlin'," he tells me, slowly pulling away from me. "What brings you to my neck of the woods?"

"A little of this, a little of that," I always like to leave them guessing just a little. "This is my brother Sam, my brother Dean and our good friend Castiel. Guys, this my good friend Paul."

"Nice to meet you," is Sam's reaction to this introduction, politely extending his hand for Paul to shake.

"Paul?" Dean echoes my old friend's name. "Your name is Paul Bunyan?"

"Yes," Paul nods, his massive hand engulfing Dean's when they exchange a pleasant handshake. "Pleased to meet you, Dean."

"How do you know each other?" Dean asks as Castiel makes an awkward attempt at a normal introduction by giving the giant a stiff handshake.

"She saved my hide, oh, ten years ago," Paul recalls, scratching his thick black beard. "Couple of hunters mistook me for what they were after. Luckily for me Jude here had already figured everything out. Came swinging in at the last minuet and kicked the crap out of those boys for, what did you call it? Sloppy leg work?"

"Yes," I nod. "It's actually why I'm here. I need to collect that favor you owe me."

"Anything," Paul agrees without hesitance, ignoring the puzzled look that crosses Dean's face at his brief story.

"I need a place to stash my car for a while," I tell him and he gives me an amused smile.

"You save my life and you want me to stash you car in my barn?" he questions. "Shoot, I'll do that for free. What else you got?"

"Well, there's door number one," I begin. "Which involves a nest invasion in town."

"Makes sense," Paul nods. "Hospital lost near an entire blood supply last week. Sounds too easy, though. What's door number two?"

"You can join up with us," I tell him, hoping that's the door he'll take. "We're pretty sure Topaz found the Stone. And figured out I'm the only one who can use it."

"Damn," Paul mutters. "Don't tell me it's just the four of you?"

"Oh, no," I laugh. "We've got a good sized resistance crew going. We could actually really use your help."

"Count me in," my friend doesn't even ask for the details.

"Perfect," I smile up at him.

"I don't mean to break up the reunion," Sam cuts in. "But we're kind of loosing daylight. We might want to check out that vampire situation before it gets too dark."

"Right," Dean agrees, turning to his friend. "Cas, you think you could -"

Dean's words trail off there when Cas disappears in a winged whisper.

"I hope that's a yes," Dean mutters as I begin to transfer the contents of my armory to my big brother's trunk.

"What is Castiel?" Paul asks out of curiosity.

"Angel," Dean replies. "What about you? You said some hunters thought you were something to hunt."

Paul gives Dean a small smile.

"Demigod, I guess," he says. "Never knew who my dad was."

"Zeus," Cas speaks upon his sudden arrival, supplying his answer with a casual tone. "Your father's name is Zeus." He pauses to look to Dean. "I found the nest. I implore you not to go."

That's kind of a lot of information to process at one time. First of all, Paul's gone 180 plus years wondering who his dad is and now, out of the blue, he's told he's part Greek god. Then there's the angel's grave warning against entering the nest it took him less than five minuets to locate.

"Why not?" Dean chooses to focus on the vampire situation.

"It's less of a nest," Cas begins. "And more of a village. I counted at least one hundred of them."

Saw that one coming, didn't I?

"Well," I speak up as I bring the trunk of my car to a close. "The way I see it is, we can skip town and deal with it later. Or, we can eat our Wheaties and knock Topaz's army down a peg right now."

"As suicidal as it sounds," Sam pipes in. "I'm with Jude."

"Me too," Dean agrees and Cas lets loose a small sigh, wordlessly signing up for the night's hunt.

The four of us climb into the Impala, but not before I can give Paul a short but affectionate kiss upon his lips, something that confuses the hell out of Sam and Dean.

"I thought you liked girls?" Sam says as I slide into the back seat beside him.

"I like beautiful people," I clarify with a simple tone.

"You and Paul...?" Sam insinuates.

"Sort of," I can't deny the bond I share with the giant. "It would have never worked. He's a woodsman. I'm a hunter. We're both realistic."

"So, is he _the_ Paul Bunyan?" Dean asks the question that's been nagging him since he figured out my friend is a lot older than he looks.

"He's the guy that stemmed the legends, yes," I respond smoothly, more than accustom to my friend's strange abilities. "A lot of the stories are pretty exaggerated."

"He's kinda small," Dean comments. "You know, considering the legend and all."

"Yeah?" I challenge. "Check the rearview mirror."

He does and his eyes grow wide at what he sees. Paul's gone from really tall to full blown giant, effortlessly picking up my car with one hand to place it gently inside his pole barn.

"I stand corrected."


	9. Suck On This

**Jude**

Hey. Jude again. Remember when I said things were about to get messy? Set your watch, we're about ten minuets away from a 3D gore fest.

The Vampire Village looks relatively unimpressive from the outside. To me and most other people, it's just another rundown, vacant two story brick building with boarded windows. I'll give them credit though, the location is pretty sweet, being just a few blocks from the down town stretch. Which means I'll need a silencer.

"Are you seriously packing a gun?" Dean wants to know, eyeing me as I load a silver pistol.

"Special bullets," I inform him. "Filled with dead man's blood. They explode when the bullet penetrates the body. It doesn't kill them, obviously, but it slows 'em down long enough."

"Dean man's blood," Dean snaps his fingers. "That's what I forgot to grab. Say, Cas, you think -"

He spins around to see Cas has vanished from sight.

"I'm glad he's helping us and all," Dean comments, turning back to preparing his own weapons. "But it's kinda weird having him on this kind of case, you know?"

"I don't," I shake my head, extracting two long, incredibly sharp machetes from my collection of blades, sheathing them into the holsters I wear around my trim hips.

"He's always had his own thing going on," Sam tries to explain as he grabs his own weapons from the sock pile. "It's not usual for him to have time to help us on a vampire case."

"They know you're here," Cas reappears out of thin air, holding out a large jar of blood for Dean to take.

"So much for a surprise attack," Dean grumbles as he passes the jar to Sam. "Dip as many arrows in that as you can. Here, Cas, you take these..."

"I have my own weapon," Cas holds his sword up for us to see and Dean nods.

"Yeah, okay," he begins, eyeing the short blade. "Except you have to cut their heads off."

"Not if you're an angel," Cas points out and Dean ponders this. That sword can kill an angel, why not a vampire?

"Touché," my older brother admits at last before watching me pull out a long staff with a scythe tied securely to each end. "Good god, Jude. That is a serious slaying weapon."

"Thanks," I say with a proud smile. "Speaking of slaying, we better bust a move."

"Should I even bother asking you to reconsider?" Cas wants to know as the four of us fearlessly march up the steps to this mega nest.

"Nope," Dean shakes his head, giving me a knowing sideways glance.

"Come on, Cas," I try to coax his doubt away with a cheerful attitude. "One hundred vamps against one angel and three Winchesters. I'd say we're evenly matched."

"Yes, well," Cas sighs. "This could be disastrous."

"You've got nothing to worry about," Dean tries to calm Cas down. "You're an angel, remember?"

"It's not me I'm worried about," he shares, giving me a long, concerned look.

I'm beginning to think Cas has a thing for me. You may have noticed. I think it's endearing. His concern for my safety, however, is mostly needless. This is the kind of thing I was built to do, and it's what I do best.

We reach the doors and nobody asks if there's a plan. Whatever plan we had is shot to hell if they know we're here. So we think of the only surprising thing left to do, which is to bust down the doors and run in with guns blazing.

Our grand entrance, as reckless as it is, does take the waiting vampires by surprise. We each manage to take a head before they can collect their thoughts long enough to react. They're young, I can tell. They way they pounce upon us feels more like a Black Friday shopping riot than a combat ambush. Which just makes this a lot easier for all of us.

Fun fact about vampires; 80 percent of fangs don't make it past their first year as a part of the bloodsucking undead. Some of them don't realize what's been done to them and are easily taken down by hunters. Others go completely mad from the heightened senses and find a way to do themselves in. Then there are the ones who are so completely over-confidant of their new strength, they do something incredibly sloppy. Like this asshole who's racing towards me. Mistake one, no weapon. Mistake two, he didn't check his surroundings. Mistake three, tangling with the Winchesters.

Dean bolts in from the side and has no trouble chopping the young vamp's head from his shoulders long before he can reach me.

Like I said, the survival rate of a new fang is pretty small.

Two vampires charge at me, one from the right, the other the left. The way they align at the speed they're going, it's perfect. I swing my double edged scythe and two headless bodies crumble to the hardwood floor.

Really, I'm not sure what Cas was so worried about. This isn't so bad, not with the four of us. Besides, we've all been through worse.

We hack, slice and stab our way through the onslaught of freshly turned vampires, pushing them back down the dimly lit corridors of this leaky old building. Cas turns out to be a big help, which comes as little surprise. I doubt he spent his time in Purgatory lounging on a riverbank. Judging by the way he drives his angel blade into each fang he slays, he's well conditioned in this activity.

Sam lays down his blade to load the crossbow he carries, firing blood tipped arrows at the creatures that gnash their fangs at us. Thunk, thunk, thunk. Three vamps disabled long enough for Dean to clean the head off their shoulders.

At this point it's hard to tell where we made a wrong turn. For all intents and purposes it was from the very beginning when I fearlessly accepted the challenge of four versus one hundred. Thinking back, it does sound a little cocky. Then again, I'm thinking it had more to do with us pushing through this building that buzzes alive with the undead. By hacking and slicing our way through, I forgot to make sure we weren't leaving anything behind to close us in.

Balls. They've got us surrounded. No sense in loosing hope now. I've got this.

With an upward thrust I raise my scythe high above our heads and spin it around my fingertips, gathering speed with each rotation it makes. I utilize my left hand to find the gun I have hiding in the inner pocket of my "work jacket", the long black trench coat I religiously wear to each hunt.

"Head's up!" I call to my brothers and the angel. "Er, down! Down! Now!"

Dean is, apparently, the only one who hears me. At least he's helpful about it. Before he can drop to the ground, he places a hand on Sam and another on Cas, pulling them down with him. Just in time, too.

The moment they hit the deck, I drop to one knee, spinning counter clockwise while bringing down the still twirling scythe that takes several heads on its helicopter descent. Holding the staff still, I extend my pistol with my left hand and squeeze off every round in a circular motion, twisting myself clockwise as I rise again.

In under thirty seconds, I've decapitated ten vampires and incapacitated at least ten more. At this rate, you'd think I was raised by a marine. Oh, wait...

"They're closing in again," Dean informs me as I reload my pistol with dead blood bullets.

"No worries," I brush this news off with little concern. "I still got a few tricks up my sleeve. Sam, don't worry about the ones I shoot, we'll get them on the way out. Cas, left!"

Cas spins to the left where he sinks his blade into a young vampire woman's heart.

"Take this," I shove my loaded pistol into Dean's hand before searching for the sleek black smart phone I carry in my jacket pocket.

"You got a pocket full of pixy dust?" Dean comments, firing off a couple of rounds before taking a good swing with his long heavy blade.

"Ha ha," I return dryly, extracting my phone.

"Now's not the time to be making phone calls," Cas tells me, watching me flip through my apps.

"What about a few pictures?" I reply sarcastically.

"Jude, what are you doing?" Sam asks, swinging at the vampires that file in from behind.

"You know how vamps have a heightened sense of hearing?" I question. "Watch this."

I hit "play" and raise my phone high above my head in a tight fist.

_"In your eyes..."_

That was so not what I meant to do. At least it gives them pause in their advances as they stare curiously at the device and the sappy tune it plays.

"That's kind of embarrassing," I mutter.

"Peter Gabriel?" Dean furrows his brows. "You're gonna try to kill them with Peter Gabriel? Please tell me you're not just having a John Cusack moment."

I hit "next". The song cuts off, replaced by an incredibly loud, high pitched screech.

"There we go."

As annoying as this new sound is to us, it's nearly debilitating to the vampires who fall to their knees, clutching their ears as their mouths twist in silent pain. Which makes our job so easy, it's almost unfair. Then again, they are monsters and this is war. They'd do the same to us if they could.

We don't stop chopping until every head is removed or every soul has been snuffed out.

"Why didn't we do that at the beginning?" Dean ponders, referring to the noise my phone continues to emit.

"You can't pull out all the good tricks at the door," I respond. "Where's the surprise in that?"

Always leave them guessing. You know, before the beheading. Then you just leave.

"Upstairs," Cas speaks as he casually wipes the blood from his blade on his still filthy trench coat. "There are some more upstairs."

We follow the angel's direction and find the stairwell, slaying the vampires that have fallen to their knees at the sharp sounds I carry with me. Repeat when we reach the long, wide corridor.

From the corner of my eye I spy three fangs who advance towards us, not nearly as effected by the obnoxious tone as the others. They must be older, which means they're the bosses. The generals of this small, now demolished, troop. Problem is, there's three of them and I only need one.

I take a steady aim and put a bullet between the eyes of the dark haired vampire on the right. Repeat with redhead on left. The middle one pauses and, before it can think about fleeing, the barrel of my gun is pressed firmly to his skull.

"No you don't," I bark, backing him into a wall. "You look like you know something."

"You can't kill me with that," he hisses and I grin.

"No," I agree. "But a shot of dead man's blood to the brain will knock you out long enough for us to take care of that problem. Dean, demonstration?"

My older brother happily obliges, taking the head from both comatose comrades.

"Start spilling," I command. "We're on a tight schedule."

"I know," the vampire with green eyes and black hair nods. "You're on your way to Washington."

"How do you know about that?" I demand to know how he has this information.

"How do you think I know?" he tells me. "Topaz. She's already more powerful than you could possibly know."

When he says power, I imagine he means like the mafia has power. As in, muscle. Numbers. People willing and eager to get their hands dirty to keep the boss happy.

"She's got spies?" I yell my questions at him, pushing the barrel of my gun harder into his skull. "Where are they?" I pause to watch his expression grow thoughtful, debating whether or not he's going to reveal any information. "Start talking and maybe you can be the sole survivor of tonight's attack."

He delays his decision, finding himself more cooperative once I bring a blade to his throat.

"Alright, alright," he quickly agrees. "Her spies are everywhere. Shifters, skin walkers, witches. Anyone who can blend in with a crowd."

"Shifters, peachy," I mutter. "Where are the other recruitment stations?"

"There are six of them," he nervously shares. "They move across the country to keep anyone from finding them."

"Where are they now?" I demand details, pressing the blade so hard against his neck I draw a minuscule amount of blood.

"Chicago," he chokes. "I think. Dallas. Baton Rouge. That's... that's all I know."

"Where's Topaz?" is my next question.

"I don't know," he shakes his head, so I push the blade harder still.

"Wrong answer," I tell him.

"I don't know, I swear," he squirms beneath my gun and my blade. "I don't take orders from her directly."

"Who then?" I bark.

"Osiris," he breathes. "His name is Osiris. He's one of the oldest living vampires."

I'm going to ignore the irony in that statement.

"He's... he's in charge of us."

I assume by "us" he means the fang gang.

"Alright, where's Osiris then?" I reword my question and he shakes his head again.

"I don't know," he repeats himself and, for a second, it kind of looks like he's going to start crying. "I don't know anything else. I'm just a recruiter."

"Come on, Jude," I hear Sam speak gently from behind me. "I think we've milked enough info out of him."

"I've got more questions," I growl.

"It's all I know, I swear," the vampire trembles. "Even if I did know more, it wouldn't help you."

"No?" I ponder. "Why not?"

This is the part where the guy in the torture chair gets cocky and tries to crush your spirits.

"You're not gonna win," a sick smile twists across his lips. "Topaz will be queen and you're all dead."

"That's funny," I say. "I thought you were the only dead man here."

I squeeze the trigger to my pistol which clicks. Empty. Damn.

The vampire lets loose a long, heavy breath of relief, thankful I've run out the ammo that would put him into a comatose state for a minimum of 24 hours.

"Looks like it's your lucky day," I sigh, removing my gun from his skull.

A grateful look crosses his eyes before his entire head falls to the floor and my machete drips with the crimson color of his poisonous blood.

Like I was really going to let him live.


	10. The Gathering

**Sam**

I'm not going to lie, watching Jude in battle kinda scared me. So it's strange that it was almost comforting to see at the same time. At the drop of a dime she was prepared for whatever the situation called for. She displayed a brutal, but true, sense of leadership and, with the war and all, it's good to know our leader is, indeed, fearless. She never was much of a follower.

We torch the building and skip town, deciding to drive as far into the night as we can and, by daylight, we decide to keep going. None of us say much. We're all a little in shock from our reckless invasion, not necessarily because it was probably the dumbest thing we've ever done, but because of what it means. We're at war. That's a small taste of what's to come.

It really sinks in around noon when we've all had a couple hours of sleep. As of last night, we're no longer hunters. We're soldiers. For now, this is what it's going to be like.

Jude calls as many people as she can in our travels, telling them all to redirect to Maine as we continue west.

"Code word," she explains. "Head towards Lodi, California."

I'm not going to lie, even under the terrible circumstances, it's good to be on the road with Jude again. The three Winchesters back together in the Impala we grew up in. It's the closest to "home" I've been in a while.

Cas is another story. Sure he's a friend and yeah we've known him a while by now. But we've never spent this much time with him before and it's just kind of, I don't know, weird. Not that it's entirely bad. It's mostly just awkward and the fact that he's a terrible conversationalist doesn't help much. There's also the way he looks at Jude, all doey eyed and dreamy. Apparently Jude's war face didn't falter his attractions towards my sister. Then again, neither did the fact we all thought she was a lesbian.

It's amusing to watch, or at least I think it is. Dean, however, finds this annoying, which I also find entertaining. I don't know why he feels protective of Jude all of a sudden. Maybe he's finally let go of her fourteen year absence and that old "watch out for you siblings" instinct has kicked back in. Maybe it's the fact that Cas is his friend who happens to be the same guy who unleashed the whole Leviathan disaster upon us. Either way, it's starting to distract him.

"Dean, watch the road!" Jude yells at Dean from the passenger seat.

Dean swiftly slams the break pedal before he can plow down a row of lush, tall growing grape vines.

"Where's your head?" Jude questions curiously.

"No where important," Dean shrugs, rolling down his window as he speaks. "Anyway, I meant to do that. I'm getting a little hungry."

I watch him pluck a thick bunch of ripe, dark purple grapes from a vine before setting the car back on the right path.

"I wouldn't eat those if I were you," Jude comments, eyeing Dean as he picks a few grapes from the bunch.

"Why not?" Dean wants to know.

"They're not for eating," Jude explains. "They're wine grapes."

"Eat 'em, drink 'em," he shrugs. "What's the difference?"

He bites into one and finds out there is, indeed, a huge difference. Jude laughs when his face falls at the sour taste and spits it out the window.

"I told you," she giggles.

"Alright, fine," Dean grumbles. "You're smarter than me. Where are we going, anyway? A winery?"

"Yeah, actually," Jude shrugs. "I know a guy who said we could use his place."

"You know a guy," Dean echoes. "Who is it this time? Thor? Isis? Santa Clause?"

"Dennis," she tells us her friend's name.

"Oh," is Dean's response to the name that sounds relatively normal.

Normal unless you're good at mythology and your sister is known to keep strange contacts. The name Dennis is derived from the Greek origin name Dionysus. If you're not familiar with Dionysus, he happens to be...

"The Greek god of wine?" I question from the back seat, less surprised than I should be when Jude gives a simple nod. "Hence the vineyard I take it."

"You have weird friends, Jude," Dean comments.

It kind of makes you think, though. This god, Dennis, he's probably been running the winery we slowly approach for at least 80 years. How many more gods, deities and other miscellaneous mythological entities have been hanging out state side under the guise of a simple business owner, woodsman, farmer, apple pie American?

Dean parks the Impala along side the first structure we see, an incredibly large wooden barn, almost completely windowless save for the tiny one framed on the lone red door at the front of the building. We stride towards the only clear entrance where we are greeted by a young, attractive blonde woman.

"We're here for the private '08 Zinfandel tasting," Jude tells the woman.

"May I see your invitations?" the woman requests. Jude nods and withdraws a silver blade from her jeans pocket. Her eyes barely leave the young blonde as she drags the blade across her palm, drawing enough blood to prove she's no shifter. Dean and I follow suit with our own blades. Cas is reluctant to participate, clearly less than enthusiastic about proving himself to a human, but gives in when Jude blinks a set of puppy eyes at him.

The woman lets us through and we wander the large, concrete floored facility between row upon row of massive oak barrels before a young, dark haired male stops us short.

"We're here for the private '09 Cabernet tasting," is what Jude tells this young man who extends a silver tray of small, paper cups filled with nothing but water.

"You have to clean your palette first," he informs us, so we all take a shot to satisfy him. "You'll find what you're looking for at 451."

451. We glance around and it doesn't take us long to notice the way the barrels are labeled. You'd think it would be easy, and it would be if the barrels were actually set up in numerical order. Of course they're not. That would be too easy.

"I see it," Cas informs us. "Follow me."

"I'm not going to lie," Dean speaks as we follow Cas through the seemingly endless hall of wine barrels. "This isn't entirely what I was expecting."

"What exactly were you expecting?" Jude wonders.

"I don't know," Dean shrugs. "Given your description of your crew, I kind of pictured a castle or a magical tree fortress. Not a winery."

"You should have seen the set up we had in Washington," Jude smiles. "It was in the basement of a bar."

That's either really low budget or a decent place to lay low. I wouldn't be surprised if it was a little of both.

"Who are the kids we ran into?" I question. "The girl at the door and the guy with the holy water. They're not just some high school kids, right?"

"No," laughs Jude as we reach the right barrel. "That's what a hundred year old fairy looks like."

"Alright, now what?" Dean asks, staring at the large but seemingly normal barrel. "We drink our way in?"

"You wish," Jude returns as she takes a quick hold of what appears to be a tap.

When she pulls on the heavy brass handle, the barrel swings open and what we find is more curious than the door itself. We stare at what appears to be a wall of red wine that should, for all intents and purposes, come crashing down upon us at any second.

"Come on," Jude motions for us to follow her, taking a cautious step into the fermenting juice with Cas hot on her heels. Dean gives a wary look at the red liquid and lets out a small groan when Jude and Cas don't come out.

"This better not stain my jacket," he grumbles.

"Your black jacket?" I scoff. "Doubtful."

Together we step into the liquid wall and, when we come through the other side, find the wine hasn't even touched us. Our clothes, our hair, our skin, it's all dry. I'm beginning to wonder if that wall is even real.

Glancing about the wide, bright room, I'm starting to realize that thing is defiantly some kind of illusion.

"Dude," Dean nudges me, his eyes scanning the sizable crowd that's already gathered between the white walls and the black and white tiled flooring. "The parking lot was empty when we got here, right?"

"Yeah," I nod, my own eyes studying each and every figure they find.

"Where'd all these people come from?" he asks me something I can only make speculations on.

"I don't think most of these people are... people," I observe, my stares never breaking from the virtual who's who of mythology and legend.

Some characters are dressed more obvious than others. A few fairies strut around in long, colorful flowing gowns or robes with floral crowns wrapped around their heads. Several witches stand amongst themselves, all dressed like they're waiting for a Whole Foods grand opening and wearing some sort of crystal or charm around their neck and wrists. One woman, a very attractive blonde, wears the traditional white Greek garb with a bow and a satchel full of arrows fastened to her back, all of which scream Greek goddess. Another woman with black hair, dark eyes and deep, brown skin wears a red hibiscus flower tucked behind her ear and a matching muumuu and I have to assume she's a Hawaiian entity.

Others aren't as easy to identify, dressing like your average American from banker to woodsman. I catch myself studying the casually dressed people more closely, searching for some tell that would reveal at least their origins. The six foot five blonde guy with the bulging muscles and a rune carved sword sticking out of his belt has got to be a Norse god. The tall guy sitting next to Paul Bunyan looks almost like a blonde version of the demigod which, to me, suggests another one of Zeus's kids. And so on.

"This is the weirdest friggin' thing I've ever seen," Dean mutters from beside me as he searches out members of our kind. You know, hunters. The mortal ones.

"Alright everybody!" Jude calls for attention. "Lets get this show on the road."

Conversations slowly come to a halt as various creatures and hunters maneuver about the room to find a more suitable seat or place to stand.

"Is this everybody?" Dean mutters the grim prospect to me and I shrug. "Seems kind of small. You know, for war and all."

"First of all," Jude continues from the head of the long, oval table set in the center of the room. "I'd like to thank Dennis for making his facility available to us."

Jude gestures to the dark haired Greek god who sits just to her left with a glass of wine held casually between his fingers and a pleasant, care free smile spread across his lips.

"Lets get introductions out of the way," my sister continues. "We're all going to be working together, we might as well know who we're working with. If you don't know me, I'm Jude and I'm the Blood Stone witch. Hence the little skirmish we seem to be having, which is putting it mildly. You met Dennis. Erin?"

The introductions continue and I have a hard time holding back the awe at some of the entities I'm in the same room with. The more notable members of our company include; _the_ Heracles, _the_ Coyote, _the_ Artemis (the woman dressed in the Greek garb), _the_ Morrigan, _the_ Horus, _the_ Pele, _the_ Tyr and _the_ Perseus. It does bring a small sense of comfort knowing these gods and goddesses are on our side.

"This is definitely the weirdest thing I've ever seen," Dean mutters again as the introductions come to a close. "Is it me or do you feel like we shouldn't be here?"

"No, it does feel strange," I agree. "Strange times, though."

"Next order of business," Jude speaks up. "Topaz's armies. My brothers and I stumbled upon a vamp recruiting station in Duluth. We kind of annihilated that one, there should be five more out there. Thanks to Rita, we know VooDoo witches are creating the zombies, which means head shot everybody. No word about the wraiths. Let's hope that's just a rumor, but don't hold your breath. I propose we go after the recruiters and wipe 'em out before her armies can get too large. Now, we've got a decent sized group here, but we could always use more hands, especially if this thing gets too serious. Erin, you're the ambassador for the fairy realm. What has your king promised us?"

"Our King has offered 1,000 soldiers to the cause," a red headed fairy in a purple dress with an ivy crown speaks from Dennis's right side. "Topaz's conquest threatens our lands as well."

"1,000," Jude mutters thoughtfully. "That's good, but we'll need more. Tyr, you team up with Stella and a couple hunters. You're on recruitment duty."

The Norse god gives a silent nod in agreement, though, from the look on his face, you can tell he's unaccustomed to taking orders from someone like Jude. Given his title as war god, his orders usually come from higher up and don't usually include mundane tasks like finding soldiers. At least he's a good sport about it.

"Another thing I'd like to take a shot at is getting that Stone away from Topaz," Jude goes on. "I don't want it and I don't care where it goes, but if we can take it from her, we've taken a lot of potential leverage. Coyote, you and Horace see if you can dig up anything on the Stone's whereabouts."

Coyote, the Native American trickster, and Horace, the Egyptian sky god, both nod in silent agreement for their assignment. Jude continues assigning groups and tasks, taking suggestions, ideas and information as they come. By the end of the meeting, Jude's teamed up with us - Dean, Cas and me - and a few of her other hunting buddies. There's Gill, a 40 something year old lean man with salt and pepper hair and soft brown eyes. Brent, Gill's hunting partner of a similar age, stands a few inches taller than myself and weights at least 50 pounds more in both fat and muscle. Last is Gill's daughter, a young woman who can't be more than 20, with long strawberry blonde hair and bright green eyes. She goes by Mackenzie and she's very pretty. Also probably too young to be included on the "hunt and destroy all vampires" mission we're about to embark upon. I don't say anything about it. Dean does.

"Aren't you a little young for this?" he asks her and she just smiles.

"Jude, if you have a moment?" Tyr approaches my sister with Stella, Jude's ex, at his side. "I'm curious to know where you expect us to find more recruits for our cause."

"Please tell me the Norse god of war did not just ask me how to find an army," Jude shakes her head, but he does have a valid point. It's not like he can walk into a local tavern and find a slew of warriors just itching for a spot in Valhalla. Or set up a booth at the local grocery store. This isn't the old days and this isn't your average, government regulated army.

"Be creative," Jude tells him. "Go find some other gods or witches or something. Merlin. Thor. Go find Thor."

My big sister just ordered Tyr to find Thor. That's kind of epic.

"Stella," Jude calls after the blonde hippy with a calm, hopefully voice before she can walk away. "Thanks for coming out."

"Of course," Stella says, her tone much calmer than the first time I met her as she offers my sister a slow smile. "I thought about it and I wouldn't feel right if I just sat at home and let this happen." Pause. "I do still love you, you know."

These words seem to lift a heavy load from Jude's shoulders as a smile creeps across her own lips. Stella sticks around long enough to receive a tender, affectionate kiss on the cheek from Jude before she rejoins Tyr and their small group of witches and hunters. Dean, though not surprised in Jude's choice in partners, stares at her with a mild curiosity as Cas looks on with a great interest.

"Dean," Jude speaks with a light, happy breath. "Get Garth on the phone. Have him on the look out for large nest activity. We've got some vampires to kill."

**AN: I feel like I need to mention I actually wrote this before the episode "Remember The Titans" aired. So imagine my surprise/giddiness when said episode came around. Either I'm riding the same thought wave as the writers for the show or my daydreams are borderline prophetic...  
... or I'm just a total geek for mythology.**


	11. Day Dream, Nightmare

**Castiel**

I dream now. I've never been able to do that before. I don't know how she's doing it, but I don't want them to stop. Honestly, I'm not sure they could even if I tried.

It's not just dreams she provokes, but a calming sense of peace. I no longer wallow in self loathing, but rather a gentile acceptance for what I've done. She gives me the strength and the hope I needed in order to forgive myself.

The more I learn about her, the more glorious she becomes to me. She is kind hearted and level headed. Her fearlessness and brutal hunting tactics don't ignite fear in me, but rather hope. This entire war is based around her and the fact she lacks trepidation is inspiring, to say the least.

If you're wondering, the dreams I've been keeping don't mean I now sleep. I still don't. She does, of course, and I try not to watch her as she slumbers, mostly because I've come to understand this is a "creepy" thing to do. There's also the fact that Dean hasn't been sleeping much of late and he keeps a weary eye on me, unenthusiastic about the uncontrollable feelings I hold for his younger sister. I don't want to make him any more upset with me.

"Cas," Dean grumbles to me in the darkened motel room one evening while Sam and Jude sleep peacefully in respective beds. "Why don't you go make yourself useful?"

I didn't know I was being useless.

"What should I do?" I wonder.

"Go check out the lead Garth gave us," Dean suggests. "Kansas City. Make sure we're heading in the right direction."

Something tells me Dean already knows we're on the right road. He's been involved with a few mysterious calls the past few days, and I'd wager my own weapon it's Benny, his vampire friend from Purgatory. He just wants me away from Jude for a while.

I humor him. I go to Kansas City and find the large nest comfortably located just a few blocks from the down town stretch, disguised as what's sometimes referred to as a "dive bar"; run down with a rough and rowdy type clientele. Not a single living soul. All things Dean probably already knows.

I don't understand his urge to protect Jude, nor do I know what he's trying to protect her from. I am certainly no threat. Even if I intended to "chase after" her, she would be in no danger. She's proven she can take care of herself on more than one occasion.

I take my time returning to the motel, respecting Dean's desires to have a few moments in solitude. I wander the streets and admire the lights that illuminate the night sky as a peaceful breeze kisses my face. I wish Jude were here. I bet she would appreciate this.

Suddenly, I'm not in Kansas City anymore. I don't even think I'm in the country anymore. I twist my body around, absorbing my fresh and sudden surroundings. A lush, old forest. Bright green moss blankets the forest floor, claiming rocks and tree trunks alike. The early morning sky is gray but mildly warm, causing a thin mist to rise from the cool, damp ground.

Ireland. Interesting.

"Hello, Castiel," a male's voice speaks from behind, the tone firm but kind.

When I turn to face the angel who brought me here, I spy a slender vessel with trim, golden hair, sky blue eyes, and a clean shaven porcelain face. He stands before me dressed in a white suit, offering a friendly smile as he casually places his hands in his pant pockets.

"Hello, Barachiel," I return the greeting to the archangel. "You're running things now, then?"

"Of course," he nods. "I'm one of the few archangels alive. I'm also the only one not currently trapped in Hell."

"I imagine you're here to collect dues for my rescue?" I speculate, preferring not to reminisce over the demise of my older brothers.

"You would imagine correctly," Barachiel nods and I sigh.

"Nothing you possibly have for me to do can begin to mend the mistakes I've made," I tell him with a cool, self loathing breath.

"What about saving the world?" Barachiel wonders which does, admittedly, grab my attention.

"How?" is my first question, my second being, "why me?"

"When you're not destroying it, you're actually pretty decent at saving it," he tells me with a smooth tone, ignoring my first question for the time being. "Besides, I know you have a soft spot for those lowly creatures. Anything to save their insignificant little lives, right?"

"I suppose..." I slowly and mildly agree. "What do you need me to do?"

"This silly little witch war," Barachiel begins, his eyes fixed upon me. "You need to stop it."

"We're trying," I attempt to explain.

"Yes, I know," he acknowledges this fact. "This little army of witches, fairies and gods. It's cute, really. And I'm sure their side could have a winning chance."

"But?" I ask, skeptically narrowing my eyes.

"There is a much quicker way to end this," he continues. "A way that will prevent future and unnecessary fatalities. It will stop the war dead in its tracks and you can easily accomplish it alone."

This sounds much too good to be true. So good in fact I'm almost afraid to ask what it is.

"What are you asking me to do?" I finally question when he doesn't elaborate.

"It's Jude," Barachiel says. "We need you to kill her."

"No," the words fall from my mouth without thought or hesitation. "You may as well send me back to Purgatory if that is how I am to redeem myself."

"Oh, we won't send you back to Purgatory," my older brother shakes his head. "You actually want to go back to that god forsaken place. No. If you fail to comply with this simple task, we will kill you. And daddy won't bring you back this time."

"Then you better kill me now," I tell him with a firm, sincere breath, my eyes slivered as they stare coldly upon him. "I will never kill Jude."

"Now now," Barachiel wags a finger at me. "Lets not make any rash decisions. Tell you what. You take a few days and you give it some thought. Who knows, maybe the Winchesters can stop it before it all gets ugly. But once the bodies start to pile up, you will make a decision. Her, or both of you."

"Well? What did you find out?"

Dean looks up at me from his seat in the chair beside the window, pausing in cleaning his gun.

I blink.

"Um," I shake my head, stalling to collect my bearings. "Benny was correct. Another station, at least 100 strong."

"You said Benny," Dean points out.

"Am I wrong?" I challenge the eldest Winchester.

Silence serves as his response.

I care not if Dean is associating himself with a vampire. Right now what concerns me is Jude's safety. I have my own secrets to keep until I can sort through this fresh nightmare.


	12. The Undead & The Damned

**Dean**

Let's get one thing straight. This was all Benny's idea. He's the one who suggested joining up with Topaz and working as an inside man. I just didn't disagree.

Why would I? One, he's a vampire. Easy in and easy for the others to trust. Two, there's low risk he'll get caught. Only he and I and maybe Cas know about it. Three, we get good leads on things like this; the vampire recruitment station in Kansas City our team just wiped off the map.

Well, almost off the map. You gotta leave at least one survivor to grill for information.

Brent, the Sasquach of a man with dark eyes and slowly graying brown hair, is having a grand old time sticking a young looking toe headed vampire with dead man's blood. Jude aims her gun at the vampire's heart with her left hand and clutches her double sided scythe with her right. Not like he's going anywhere. He's tied to a friggin' chair and there's an angel standing next to him.

"We can do this all night if you'd like to," Jude interrogates the general of this outfit. "We're not going anywhere until we get some answers. Now, where is Topaz keeping her real army? The one's who've passed recruitment?"

"Even if I knew," the vampire begins with a tired breath. "I wouldn't tell you."

"Fine," Jude accepts. "What about Osiris? You know his location, don't you?"

"I'm not telling you shit," the vampire spits angrily.

Jude lowers the aim on her gun a touch and squeezes the trigger, sending a fresh shot of dead man's blood into his abdomen. The vampire lets out a painful scream and my phone rings. Everyone looks at me like I'm the jerk who forgot to turn their phone off at the movies.

I check the ID. Benny. Well this is awkward.

I excuse myself away from the dimly lit room in the bar's basement, answering the call once I've hit the street.

"You find the nest alright?" Benny's slow, southern voice questions.

"Yeah," I reply in a low tone. "We're just finishing up."

"I won't keep ya long then, brother," Benny promises. "Just wanted to let ya know I heard of another station. Jacksonville, Florida."

"Great," I comment.

"I got a lead on Osiris, too," he quickly includes. "Hear he's in New Orleans."

"We'll make a detour on our way to Jacksonville," I say. "Any word on the Stone yet?"

"None that I can tell," Benny reports. "They're keepin' it pretty well hid. Feel like I'm gettin' closer though."

"Alright," I speak. "You keep looking. And be careful out there."

"You too, brother," Benny replies. "You look after your sister now, hear?"

Haven't heard that one in a while.

If you're wondering, I do trust Benny. Not just because he's the reason I managed to crawl my way out of Purgatory, but because I know he's not just another bloodsucking bastard. Of course I questioned him on the matter at the start, before I gave him the go ahead to play spy. This is what he told me;

"If I wanted to live in a state of Purgatory, I'd have stayed in Purgatory. That ain't the world we fought our way back to and that ain't the world I wanna live in."

That's not the world I wanna live in either.

When I find my way back into the dingy, darkened and mostly empty bar, I can hear the painful howls that scream up from the basement. A gunshot rings out and the terrible cries come to a screeching halt. Must have been a head shot.

I return to the basement in time to witness Brent clean the head off this vampire and I can't help but watch his head fall from his shoulders and roll across the dirty cement floor.

"Useless?" I question. Jude shakes her head as Brent wipes his blade clean.

"Almost," Jude informs me. "We broke a few limbs and got him to spill Osiris's current location."

"Oh?" I pretend I don't already have this intel.

"New Orleans," Sam informs me. "Who was on the phone?"

"Oh, um, Garth," I lie. "Found another nest in Jacksonville."

"Perfect," Jude comments. "Lets send Osiris packing to Purgatory before we head out to Florida."

Solid plan.

It doesn't take us more than a couple days to reach the old French city and for a second, I have to wonder why we've never hunted a vampire here before. I don't spend too much time pondering this. The group of strange, unknown hunters that beat us here provoke more serious questions. Like, who the hell are these guys?

"Demons," Cas informs us as we watch a gang of five enter a large and luxurious but crumbling and condemned mansion in the dead of night.

"Demons?" I echo in the form of a question. "Why... how... what the hell?"

"You think Crowley's joined up with Topaz?" Sam speculates, a question I have to shake my head at.

"Doubtful," Jude speaks. "They're all wielding freaking machetes."

That's not odd at all...

We debate amongst ourselves if we should follow the demons or wait for them to emerge. The answer comes when we hear a slew of screams come from inside the dimly lit house, something that prompts us to rush inside with guns blazing. This house is no recruitment post. It's not a small nest, but it lacks the numbers the last two nests had. Even better, the demon troop has already wiped them all out. I still don't know what they're doing here, but right now I can't say I care.

We find answers along with Osiris (or at least who I assume to be Osiris), in a large bedroom on the second level of the three story house, and he's not alone. Headless bodies lay strewn about him as he sits tied to a wooden chair with a machete held to his throat. Obviously he's not holding a blade to his own throat. No, the guy holding the blade is none other than Crowley himself.

Is this good or bad?

"Why hello, Sam," Crowley nods in our direction with an amused smile. "Dean. I see you managed to crawl your way back. Castiel, you're looking... well, you look like a lumberjack in a trench coat. How was your vacation in Purgatory?"

"What are you doing here, Crowley?" Sam questions through slivered eyes.

The last time we saw the demon king was when he set us up to put the Leviathans back, knowing fully well it would suck Cas and I into the godforsaken place in the process. Safe to say, he's not exactly our favorite character right now.

"You're Crowley?" Jude questions, the name familiar to my sister.

"I am," he nods proudly. "And you're the witchy Winchester. They have been keeping you well hidden, haven't they? Why don't you show us a trick then?"

"I don't need to prove myself to a demon," Jude rolls her eyes at the request. "And the name's Jude."

It occurs to me when Crowley mentions her magical abilities that, aside from mending my wolf scratches and the whole memory thing, I've not really seen Jude use her "natural" powers. I wonder why that is. Not that I'm complaining. It's still weird to me my sister is a witch.

"Afraid of yourself?" Crowley suspects, a question that is not dignified with a response. "No matter. I'm sure we'll see them before this is all said and done with."

"What are you doing here?" Sammy repeats his own question.

"My friend Osiris here and I were just having a little chat," Crowley tells us, motioning towards the dark haired, dark skinned vampire that dates back to the age of ancient Egypt. "He was about to tell me where Topaz is."

"Who's side are you on?" I want to know, although given the fact Osiris is the only remaining vampire here, I'm guessing ours.

"Side?" Crowley echoes with and amused breath. "Come on, Dean. You should know me better than that by now. I'm on my side. This whole Topaz affair is fouling up my own operations up here."

"Really?" I challenge with suspicion. "So, you're not on board with the whole age of darkness idea?"

"Don't get me wrong," he says. "It's a romantic notion."

His and my idea of "romantic" differ greatly apparently.

"Sure, the first few years would bring a sudden spike in Hell's population," he goes on. "Which is a plus for me. But once all the humans are gone, what next? Just eternal torture? Half the fun is luring them down."

I'm almost sorry I asked.

"Besides, monsters aren't as much fun to play with," Crowley finishes. "Filthy creatures, really. And if there's going to be an age of darkness in my lifetime, I'm the one who's going to run the show."

I'm going to ignore the last part for now. I'm just glad that, even though he's not on anyone's side, he's not against us. I just gotta remember this time around that Crowley's always got some wicked twist behind every half good idea he has.

"Now, if you don't mind," he says, tightening his grip on his blade. "I'd like to get back to my discussion with my friend here." He pauses to turn back to the ancient vampire. "Where the bloody hell is Topaz?"

"I will take that information with me to the grave," Osiris fearlessly spits.

"Suit yourself," Crowley shrugs and, with a rapid but swift motion, decapitates the vampire.

"What the f-!" Jude yells at the demon king, furious with his careless slaying.

"What?" Crowley shrugs, calmly cleaning blood from his machete with a white handkerchief. "He wasn't going to give us anything useful. He's too loyal and too old for torture games. Er, was, anyway."

Jude lets out a long, frustrated sigh at this.

"Well, this has been fun," Crowley says when none of us say a word. We're all too lost in the curious set of events we just witnessed, uncertain if this is a good or bad thing.

"I'm sure we'll meet again soon," the demon tells us, looking directly at Jude as he speaks. "I'll say hi to daddy for you."

Ouch.

If there's one thing Crowley's good at, besides being the devious leader of the underworld, is finding the proverbial knife and driving it in just to leave a person feeling like crap. He doesn't even stick around to see the face Jude makes at the comment, which seems to be a mixture of regret and anger.

"What an asshole," she mutters.

She doesn't even know the half of it.


	13. Falling Up

**Jude**

I'm not afraid of my powers as Crowley suggested. Why would I fear myself? I simply don't like using them all that much. It seems, I don't know, unnatural. Wrong. Evil. I guess, at the end of my road, I want to wind up in Heaven, not Purgatory or Hell and I figure the less I use my powers, the better chance I have of reaching God's kingdom. That or I'm still stuck on dad and Dean's persistent warnings against using magic at any time for any reason.

I don't let Crowley or his smug comments get to me. I can't let a hellion like him keep me down, not when there's work to be done. We've got another station to raid.

Mackenzie watches in a silent fascination as I casually hone the blades of the double sided scythe I hold steady in my lap from my seat at the edge of my motel bed. She's a sweet girl and a decent hunter who will, no doubt, be great in time. Her story isn't unlike my own; mother died at the hands of a creature when she was barely out of diapers and spent her childhood on the road with her father. The only difference is, she's an only child. That and the fact her father, Gill, was already a hunter. Also, the thing that did her mom in was a vampire.

Hence her fascination towards my weapon. I don't know Mackenzie as well as I know Gill, but I can tell the one creature she hates the most are vampires. Which is good, considering the task I've assigned our crew. I just hope she doesn't allow her personal feelings towards the fangs interfere with the job.

"You like the scythe?" I ask her and she nods. "You can test it out if you'd like. It's a handy weapon once you get the hang of it. Takes some practice though."

Her green eyes sparkle as I pass the weapon to her, a wide grin spreading across her lips as she accepts my invitation. She studies it for a moment, closely eyeing the staff made from a sturdy oak tree. Tiny symbols are carved smoothly along the object, all protection symbols from various cultures across the world. It looks pretty similar to the one I use, but not exact.

"Is this yours?" she asks suspiciously. "It looks different."

"So it does," I agree. "That must be the one I made for you. Happy birthday, by the way."

"For me?" she repeats, excitement gathering in her tone. "Really?"

"Yeah," I nod. "Just promise you'll practice before you bring it to battle. It's tricky to use at first."

"Thank you so much!" Mackenzie squeals.

"It's your birthday?" Sam speaks up from beside the door and she nods. "Happy birthday! What's the number?"

"21," Mackenzie replies casually.

"Oh, well," Sam begins. "I didn't get you anything but I'll buy you a drink once we knock down this nest."

Mackenzie graciously accepts his offer with a smile that's almost bashful. She's taken a keen interest in my little brother, who seems somewhat interested in return. I know he's having a hard time moving past Amelia, but it's nice to see he's at least trying.

"I'm gonna go show my dad," Mackenzie tells me before bolting out the door with Sam following shortly behind.

With Dean in Gill's room making blood bullets with the older hunters, I find myself completely alone with Cas who stares blankly at the rough red carpet below his feet.

"You've been kind of quiet the last few days," I give him my observation. "More than you already are, anyway. What's on your mind?"

"Nothing of importance," he shakes his head.

"Is it Purgatory?" I guess anyway.

"It's relative, yes," he mysteriously admits, not interesting in revealing the details. Still.

"I have a question for you," I change the subject. "And don't take this the wrong way because I'm really glad you're on our side, but why are you here?"

"Earth is my home now," he slowly articulates his response. "It is my father's creation, as are the people who live here. I need to protect it."

"Dean said God abandoned us," I share and Cas gives a slow nod.

"I was angry when I first learned he left us," he says. "For years, in fact. But I think I get it now. He's tired. And I don't think he's left us, not entirely. I think it's just our turn to take care of ourselves. And I want to make sure I take care of his creations right this time."

"Who are you trying to prove yourself to?" I wonder and his response is actually kind of wonderful.

"Myself."

For some reason, he looks different. I mean, technically he looks exactly the same as he did two seconds ago. But now that he's revealed himself more to me, he seems deeper, more compassionate and determined than I originally thought him to be.

"Do you regret it?" I find myself asking him and he knows I'm referring to the soul business.

"I lament and abhor what I did," he replies honestly. "I'm not entirely sure I'll ever forgive myself for that. But I don't regret it. Regret is a waste of time and energy. What's done is done. I can either let it drag me down, or I can learn from it and do whatever I can to better myself. And the best way to better oneself is by helping others." He pauses to give me a sheepish smile. "Besides, had I not done all that, our paths probably would have never crossed. Regretting my past would mean I regret the present and fear the future. I could never rue the day we met, nor fear a future you will be a part of."

Woah. That was more profound than I was expecting. Something I also wasn't expecting, well, ever, were the nicest words anyone's ever spoken to me. Not even Stella, the love of my life, ever said anything like that to me. The best part is the sincerity of his statement.

His words aren't just unexpected, but kind of revealing in a way. Like he's slowly unshrouding his mystery to me. The more he lets me see of himself, the more I... I...

Dear god. Do I have a crush on Cas? No, I can't possibly...

I glance at his vibrant blue eyes and the small smile he wears for me.

Oh, dear lord, I do.

No, I can't. He's Dean's best/only friend. Also, he's an angel. I'm a witch. Talk about tabu. I don't even have to mention the distraction factor.

The door swings open and my head snaps up to find Dean standing in the doorway with furrowed brows. He's not a fan of Cas's crush on me and has done everything to prevent us from being alone.

"What's going on in here?" he questions, his eyes darting between the two of us.

"Just talking," I tell him with a casual smile.

"We're loaded up," my brother informs us. "Come on."

-

All trough the raid, I try not to think about it. I think what's more distracting than thinking about my small crush on the angel is telling myself not to think about it. I'm able to at least put it on the back burner far enough for me to hold my own in this fight.

Hey, there's Cas, slaying vampires like it's his job with his angel sword and his neat angel tricks. I watch him turn and suddenly bolt in my direction. Why's he running towards me? _Don't wonder, just let it happen._

A vampire grabs me from behind and just before he can sink his razor sharp fangs into my neck, Cas swoops in and knocks him to the ground before he stoops down and, with a smooth, downward thrust, runs his blade into the vampire's heart.

Allowing myself to become distracted to the point where I let myself get caught by a new vampire is embarrassing, to say the least. But watching Cas come to the rescue like that...

Yeah, I definitely like him.

And I was worried about Mackenzie's feeling getting in the way.


	14. Bloodshed & Broken Secrets

**Sam**

Jude said I have a crush on Mackenzie? That's interesting. Not that I'm not attracted to her. I mean, she is incredibly pretty. And smart. And a pretty damn decent hunter. She's also quite kind, interesting and...

Okay, so maybe I have a small crush on her. It doesn't really matter though. The timing is awful, what with the war and the fact Amelia and I ended not all that long ago. It's hard to move past a relationship as intense as the one Amelia and I shared. I'll get there someday, and hopefully Mackenzie has enough patience to wait for me. But for now, the best affections I can allow myself to show the young hunter are small smiles, pleasant company and an occasional hug or two.

A few weeks draw by with events far less epic than our first week on vampire duty. Garth continues to provide Dean with accurate leads, but the vampires or, more likely, Topaz, got wise to our own conquest. Now when we reach the next city on Garth's list, the nests we find are completely abandoned.

It was kind of bound to happen. At least they didn't catch on until we were half way through destroying the vampire's recruitment posts.

I'm not exactly sure what happened in Jacksonville, but whatever it was it brought Cas and Jude closer together. Overnight they went from friendly acquaintances to best friends who share some kind of deep, unspoken bond. When Jude isn't looking, Cas stares longingly and lovingly at her. When Cas isn't looking, Jude does the same to him. When they're both looking, they're usually wearing some sort of dopey smile and once I caught Jude beginning to blush.

All of which, of course, makes Dean uncomfortable. He makes us all well aware of this with displeased expressions and never letting Jude too far out of his sights. I don't know what the big deal is. Granted, I've never been the big brother and I'll never understand the natural urge to protect the little sister from devious men. Then again, despite some of his past misdoings, Cas is no devious man. He's not even a man at all, he's an...

On second thought, maybe that's just it. The whole angel thing. Most of the ones we met turned out to be real dicks and Cas did kind of prove it seems to be the natural way of the angel.

I don't know why I'm trying to analyze Dean and his curious distaste for their mild flirtations. He'll let it all build up and fester until one day Cas stands just a little too close to our sister and we all get an earful of why Cas needs to stay away from Jude. I've been around Dean long enough to know how this kind of thing works.

Except, when I'm positive he's about ready to burst, he finds something else to distract him. For the past few days he's been kind of silent and on high alert and he won't say why. Surprise, right?

"This isn't about the whole Cas and Jude thing, is it?" I have to ask him one evening as we're gassing up at a mom & pop station in the middle of nowhere, Ohio.

Dean rolls his eyes but doesn't answer the question. Stuffing his hands inside his jeans pockets he quietly leans against the Impala as gasoline pumps itself into the tank.

"I wouldn't worry about it," I try to assure him. "This is Cas we're talking about. When was the last time you saw him on a date?"

This doesn't seem to ease his mind as his face grows more worrisome by the second. It takes me a minuet to realize it's not the conversation that's troubling him, but rather what he's staring at. He's trying to make sure what he's seeing is real before he spreads panic.

I follow his gaze and, when he's sure I'm seeing the same thing, decides it's a good time to grab some guns. Across the street from the gas station is a cemetery. Several figures rush through the night, hoping over headstones and bushes, twenty, maybe thirty of them. For the first minuet, at the distance and in the cover of night, these figures appear to be small people. And then comes that sinking realization that they're far from human.

Ghouls.

"Gill! Brent!" Dean shouts, retrieving a shot gun from his stockade of weaponry before tossing one in my direction. "We got trouble, guys!"

It doesn't take long for the older hunters to make their way around from the side of Gill's white utility van, each wielding their own shot guns. Their jaws drop the instant they see what's about to descend upon us. None of us have seen this many ghouls in our life, nor did we expect to.

Dean and Gill relocate their cars, both anticipating what will probably be an inevitable explosion. There are only so many times you can fire off a gun in a gas station before something catches fire. That and, with this many of the creepy monsters headed your way, the flammable fuel is probably going to come in handy.

I spy Jude, along with Cas and Mackenzie, stroll from the station's market, casually at first. Their pace quickens when they notice us all armed under the bright lights in the parking lot, breaking into a full run when they see the ghouls.

Jude drops her bag of junk food in the trunk, exchanging it for a shot gun she passes to Mackenzie.

"Go back inside," she instructs the young hunter. "Lock the doors. Keep everyone inside safe."

"You go with her," Dean orders our sister who frowns.

"No way," she shakes her head, taking her own gun. "I'm staying and fighting."

"This is no coincidence, Jude," Dean growls. "These things are probably here for you. You're safer inside."

"No..." she begins to object, but Cas cuts her off.

"Dean's right," he speculates. "You should go back inside."

"But..." she softly protests.

"Jude, inside!" Dean barks. "Now! We got this."

Begrudgingly, Jude follows Mackenzie back to the store where I'm sure they'll have one hell of a time explaining they're not robbing the place, just protecting them from the small army of ghouls.

The events that follow are kind of a blur. Even with an angel on our side it's hard to kill thirty ghouls in one sitting. Some are easy to put a bullet into, others want to go down fighting.

It doesn't take Dean long to make use of a gas pump, dousing the ghouls that try to take him on.

"Fire in the hole!" he yells before flicking his lighter.

He drops it and runs as five of the gruesome beasts become consumed in flames. I get a good shot off before I quickly follow, as do Gill, Brent, Cas and the ghouls not dumb enough to let themselves explode.

Four of them skip off towards the shop in search of Jude, but Brent is on their trail. A fifth ghoul leaps out from the flaming wreck that's doomed to explode at any second, pouncing upon the massive hunter. The ghoul, he snaps his neck. Brent's neck.

The massive hunter crumples to the ground as the ghoul bounds towards us.

Things get kind of fuzzy after that. I want to say Jude came rushing out once Brent hit the ground. There was definitely an explosion and we managed to kill the last of them without another fatality.

Whatever happened, it's taken me a solid six hours to fully come back into focus. Must of bumped my head. Maybe it was witnessing my first casualty in this war. Either way, the sun begins a gradual and taunting assent in the east and we're giving Brent a proper send off in some filed far from the freeway.

I offer my shoulder for Mackenzie to rest her head upon while she and Gill quietly watch the fire consume their close friend. Brent wasn't just a hunting partner. He was family. Brent was to Mackenzie what Bobby was to Dean and me.

Jude stares sorrowfully into the fire and I can see the blame she feels. It's been accumulating over the past few weeks, and now, with a death of someone close to her, she's temporarily allowed it to claim her.

Brent is not the first to go, nor will he be the last. The average is three deaths a week. For a war I suppose that's not bad. Considering our numbers, it kind of is.

After a long stretch of silence passes, Gill says a few things about his best friend and Mackenzie softly sings Amazing Grace. I glance over to Dean and note the strange guilt that seems to haunt him. I wish he would get over the fact that people die and it's almost never his fault.

Once the hunter's funeral has come to an end, we all somberly stroll back to our cars. My phone rings and I hang back to receive the call.

Garth.

"Hey," is how I answer. "What's going on?"

"So you are alive," Garth says, and I assume he somehow heard about the ghouls.

"Uh, yeah," I agree. "What's up? You got another lead on a recruitment station?"

"What?" Garth asks with a confused tone. "What are you talking about?"

"The vampire recruitment posts," I say. "You know, the one's you've been sending us to? Kansas City? Jacksonville?"

"Yeah, I don't know what you're talking about," Garth says. "Wherever you're getting your intel, it ain't from me."

"Dean said you were on the look out for that stuff?" I'm starting to get suspicious.

"Dean?" Garth echoes. "The last time I talked to Dean he said something about a war and hung up. I had to ask a bunch of other hunters for the details."

That's very curious.

"I was just calling to see if you knew anything about this demon hunter thing?" Garth gets to the reason behind his call. "I know some guys on zombie duty for Jude's operation. They said they were about to make a raid when four demons came out of nowhere and killed everyone of 'em, including the witch that was making the damn things."

"Uh, yeah," I absently confirm this information. "Crowley's not enthused about the whole Purgatory on Earth idea."

"He's on our side?" Garth wonders.

"Uh, I don't think so," I say. "As long as his cronies are killing vamps and zombies, I don't think it's anything to worry about."

"Alright," Garth agrees. "I just thought it was strange. Where are you guys, anyway?"

"Now's not a great time for chit chat," I inform him.

I swiftly end the conversation and march up to Dean who stands somberly beside his Impala.

"Who was that?" Dean questions.

"Garth," I tell him and Dean's face falls.

"Did he find another nest?" Jude asks.

"Garth doesn't know anything about that," I keep my eyes on Dean as I speak with a mouthful of anger. "Who's been sending us these tips, Dean?"

Dean sighs.

"Benny," he shares and I can feel my cheeks grow hot with rage at the name.

"You are such a freaking hypocrite," I spit at Dean. "And you're a liar."

"Who's Benny?" Jude furrows her brows.

"Dean's friend from Purgatory," Cas gently explains. "He's a vampire."

"That's not disillusioning," Jude mutters. "What, Benny's a secret spy for our cause or something?"

"Not much of a secret now, but yeah," Dean nods.

Jude thinks about it for a minuet.

"Sam's right," she says at last. "You are a freaking hypocrite. You can't accept the fact your sister is unwillingly a witch but a vampire you've got no problem keeping company with."

"It's not like that, Jude," Dean tries to explain himself. "I'm cool with your witch thing now, I swear. And you can't deny he's been pretty useful so far. He's the one who gave us a heads up on all those nests."

"What about the ghouls?" I want to know. "Did he know about those?"

"Not exactly," Dean says. "He knew something was coming. He just didn't know what or when."

"Thanks for the heads up," Jude mutters sarcastically.

"Look, I'm sorry," Dean tries to apologize, though I know he lacks the sorrow in most of his actions to give a sincere apology. "But he has been pretty useful. He knows where the nests are and he's even on the look out for the Stone. If we can get it to Jude..."

"I don't want it, Dean," Jude spits. "You don't get it, do you? There's a solid chance I'd go dark side the second I touch the Stone. All of this would mean nothing the instant that thing reaches my possession." She pauses. "You know what? Never mind. I'm riding with Gill for a while."

"Yeah, me too," I agree.

I'm not really as upset by the fact that Dean's got a vampire buddy as I am by the fact that he lied to us about it. He told himself he was protecting us when really he was just being deceitful.


	15. Near Life Experience

**Castiel**

"There's something about a howling, bone chilling wind that completely demotivates a guy," Dean comments from his seat in front of a stone fireplace, calmly warming his hands by the heat of the well built fire. "Thank god the power's still on."

He's referring to the below zero blizzard that rages beyond the walls of Gill's log cabin, located near Lake Superior in Michigan's Upper Peninsula. We had been tracking the fifth recruitment station when an early winter storm rolled off the lake and forced us to take shelter here.

"I significantly doubt God has anything to do with that," I inform him, to which he rolls his eyes.

"Really, Cas?" he groans. "After all these years and all the time you've spent down here, you're still taking everything that literally?"

He may have a point. He also may be getting impatient in regards to how seriously I take his comments. I've spent several millennia taking comments and observations in the most literal sense. It's going to take more than a couple of years for me to get used to the whole "not meaning most of the things you say" thing.

"It might be friggin' cold," Dean goes back to mindless chatter. "But I'm kind of glad we caught a break. How long we been on the road now, two months?"

I nod to confirm this.

"I'm sick of vampires, man," he shakes his head. "I'm gonna enjoy every minuet of this blizzard."

I have to agree with him on that. On the plus side, we only have two more recruitment stations to find and destroy. On the down side, there's still an entire army of them and no one's been able to find them.

"Wanna play cards or something?" Dean proposes a simple game to pass away the night.

Everyone else has long since gone to sleep in respective rooms in the home. It's been Dean and I alone in the living room aglow with the blazing fire as we listen to the wind hollow outside. When Jude's not around, Dean lets his guard down and we're friends again. It's only when she's present does he feel protective.

It's curious to see, really. It's nothing more than an interest. An incredibly deep and intense interest, but still, that's all it is.

Maybe he knows I wish it were more than that.

"Aren't you tired?" I question as he casually sips his beer.

"Meh," he shrugs vaguely. "I'll get some sleep in a little while. What do you say? You know how to play poker? Texas Hold 'Em? Five card stud? Go Fish?"

Even if I did know how to play poker, I don't have a dime. I've never had need for things like money.

Which won't serve as a problem, seeing as how I'm not exactly in Michigan anymore. There's not even a single snow flake where I am now. A beach. Tropical. Palm trees that sway under a bright, moonlit night as ocean waves gently lap the sandy shores.

Hawaii?

"Little too cold for my blood where you were," I hear Barachiel's voice explain.

I turn to face my brother and see he is not alone. Standing obediently behind him are twelve of my brothers and sisters, all silently awaiting orders from their new leader.

Just when I was beginning to wonder if Barachiel had changed his mind...

"No," I cut straight to the chase, something that seems to amuse the archangel.

"No?" he echoes. "What if I were about to offer calling this whole thing off?"

He's playing games with me. You don't spend millions of years around someone without picking up a few "tells". I narrow my eyes at him.

"Okay, fine," he admits. "That's not really on the table. Too many people have died for this. Now, I'll tell you one last time, Castiel. Kill Jude, or we will kill the both of you."

"You heard me," I growl. "I said no."

"You'd really die for that mud fish?" the amusement in Barachiel's voice has faded as he becomes annoyed with the situation. "That abomination of a mud fish?"

"She is far from an abomination," I defend the honor of the woman I love. "And yes, I would gladly die for her."

"What is it with you and the Winchesters?" Barachiel wants to know. "Unless... you like her, don't you? You are an unusual one, Castiel. Too bad we won't see where that soap opera takes us."

He casually nods to the angels that stand behind them, signaling them to make their move.

"I wish it didn't have to be like this," Barachiel speaks, pretending his actions bring him sorrow. "I really liked you, Castiel. You were always such a good little soldier. I liked you even more when the Winchesters taught you how to think for yourself. Up until now, anyway."

"You don't know what you're doing, Barachiel," I attempt to reason with him as my brothers and sisters advance upon me, ignoring his casual comments. "We can win this."

"People are needlessly perishing, Castiel," he tells me calmly. "The only way to stop it is to stop her."

"No," I shake my head as I prepare to fight. "She is the one who will lead us to victory. This war will not end if she dies."

I realize trying to compromise or reason with him is futile. He's made up his mind and there's no convincing him otherwise.

So I fight. Unfortunately I'm all too well versed in fighting angels and, at first, I find little difficulty in saving myself by slaying the others. It's almost too easy and for a minuet I can't help but smugly think, should have brought more angels, huh Barachiel?

Too much pride. It is my undoing in this battle as I become captured by two members of the surviving six. They force me to my knees, each holding their blades to my throat as they keep me down.

Even on my knees, I keep the faith I have in Jude. I may have failed to protect myself, but she's proven to me on many occasions now that she can hold her own. As long as the three Winchesters are together, she will be victorious. I only wish I could see it.

Barachiel walks triumphantly into view, smiling at the vision of my defeat.

"Sorry, Castiel," he speaks, unsheathing his own blade in preparation to finish me himself. "You can't fight your way out of this one."

He inches nearer and the angels loosen their grip on me. They draw back their weapons enough to allow Barachiel a clear shot of me.

"I'm going to do what Raphael should have done a long time ago."

Something catches his attention, causing him to pause in his moment of victory. I see it when an angels falls to his knees before diving face first into the sand. His life force exists his vessel as Jude pulls an angel blade from his back.

How is she here?

She thrusts the sword into an angel's lungs as another swipes at her with his own blade. It hits me when his weapon glides through her, as if she were a vision or a ghost.

"Can't stab what's not really there, asshole," Jude says before laying her blade into his neck.

This is an out of body version of Jude. The strongest one I've seen for someone whose not dead. Sometimes I forget she's a witch.

In the commotion Jude's created, I manage to find my feet and help her free me from my captors. Barachiel hardly waits for us to slay the last of them before he vanishes.

He'll be back.

"Good timing," I comment to Jude when we're alone on the beach. "How did you find me?"

"You're not carrying a hex bag," she tells me simply. "Dean woke me up and said you just disappeared but it didn't seem good. So I worked a little magic and wa-laa. Here I am." Pause. "What's their problem anyway? You owe the angel Mafia money?"

"Um, no," I don't quite understand her last question. It must be a joke. "They're still bitter about the soul business."

She accepts this half lie easily. I'm not ready to tell her Heaven's given her a death sentence and they want me to be her executioner. As long as I'm still alive, I can prevent that fate from falling upon her.

"Thank you," I say and she smiles.

"I owed you one," she tells me. "I guess that makes us even now."

"I suppose," I slowly agree. "Don't feel indebted should I save your life again. As long as I know you, I will always protect you."


	16. Death Follows

**Dean**

The thing about raiding vampire recruitment posts is, despite the tedious work, it's almost so easy it's monotonous. Or, it at least becomes easy after you've slain six of them in a few month's time.

And just when we were feeling accomplished and fairly bad ass, we run into something a lot less easy to fight. Still vampires, which is a plus considering how accustom we've grown to slaying the blood suckers. The down side is that a lot of these fangs aren't as young as the ones we've been dealing with, which means they're smarter, faster and stronger. And there are usually just as many. A hundred or so at a random abandoned house or condemned building near some city or town. Once an army two hundred strong waited for us in a large open field. We ended up retreating from that particular battle and almost lost Gill in the process.

Now it really feels like war.

We're not the only ones with the problem. Other groups of hunters and witches are experiencing similar issues. One group raided a cemetery in Georgia thinking they were going to catch one of Topaz's witches in the middle of animating fresh corpses. Imagine their surprise when they were met by a full on army of the undead.

While the death toll continues to climb, we've managed to retain most of our more valuable players in this crazy ass war. As far as we know, anyway. No one's heard from Coyote and Horace in a while, which I know makes Jude a little nervous. Paul, the gentle giant from tall tales, is a hard one to stay in contact with, but I'm almost positive that's got more to do with his lack of interest in technology, like cell phones.

Benny keeps calling with semi useful information, giving us a heads up on the next nest or army up the road. No luck finding the Stone yet, though. He's been pretty vague on his own location and swears he has no idea where Topaz or her armies are hiding. He tells me he's with a small troop with no station, the hundred or so members staying on the road pretty consistently to avoid hunters like us. He speculates the other troops have been instructed to do the same, making it much more difficult for us to be able to locate.

Speaking of Benny, Sammy's still a little mad at me for that. I'm not even sure anymore what bothers him the most; the fact I have a friend that's a vampire, that last fact on top of me killing one of his monster friends, or the fact I sort of lied about it. Jude was fairly upset with me for a few days after Brent died and I'm not going to lie, I beat myself up over that for a solid two months. Okay, lets be honest; that's probably one of those things that'll haunt me for the rest of my life (at the current rate the world's going, I shouldn't have long now myself). I'm just glad she was able to forgive me enough to accept our secret spy. One angry sibling I can deal with. Not both of them.

Huh. It's been five months since Jude's return to us and it still feels a little odd pluralizing "sibling". I guess fourteen years forgetting there was a second one will do that to a guy.

God I hope she doesn't do that to me again.

There comes a point in our real battles where Jude decides we need to regroup, take a few days to catch up on sleep, and maybe, just maybe, sneak in a few hours to unwind. I might be a beer and whiskey kind of guy, but a god-run winery does sound like a nice place to relax for a few minuets, even if it is the base of our operations. With any luck that one blonde fairy will still be hanging around. Or maybe Artemis. Come to think of it, there were a couple witches I saw I wouldn't mind making a little magic with...

Sorry. It's been a little while. We've been on the road pretty non stop for months and it's kind of hard to meet other women when you feel the need to watch your sister and your best friend at every moment of every waking hour.

Yes, I'm still weirded out by that. It was easier to digest when it was just Cas slipping in and out of Lala Land and giving her dopey smiles. Now they're both making googley eyes at each other. It's nauseating and it's not right. Cas is my best friend and a hell of a lot older than Jude. And he might be my friend, but I'm not forgetting that whole Leviathan thing anytime soon. That and she's my little sister. She's not supposed to be hanging out with renegade angels, she's supposed to be reading comic books with her ragged teddy bear tucked under her arm or begging me to buy her an EZ Bake oven. Not dating full grown men, or celestial beings for that matter.

"Freaking get over it," Sammy mutters to me when he catches my brows furrow at how closely Cas and Jude approach the winery together.

I guess Sammy's going with hostile and distant today. Peachy. And I ws so looking forward to being here, too.

This is no vacation for Jude. She immediately sets to work when we pass all our tests and find our way to the large room enclosed within a great wine barrel. Sam and I eagerly offer to stay with Jude who insists we get some rest.

"Aednat, show them to their rooms please," Jude politely instructs the blonde fairy woman who happily obliges.

Rooms? This room is already suspiciously large considering what it's hiding in. How can there possibly be multiple rooms?

Aednat draws back a large oil paining of a vineyard to reveal a long, well lit hallway, carpeted in thick burgundy colored fabric with expensive art pieces hanging along the clean white walls. Right, a god lives here. As we follow the fairy down the hall, I can't help but wonder what the illusion is here; the winery, or the place we currently stand within.

When Aednat shows us to our room, I stop caring. Two queen sized beds lean against a white wall, both adorned with several fluffy white pillows and what looks like white down comforters. One wall, opposite of the beds, is made completely from glass with a fantastic view of Dennis's extensive vineyard. When I take a seat on the first bed, the mattress almost sucks me in it's so comfortable.

I'm gonna start praying to this god.

If I sit here much longer, there's a good chance I'll never get up.

"Is there anything else you may require?" Aednat kindly questions and I give her a small smile.

"I don't know," I say. "When's your shift end?"

Aednat smiles.

"When my husband and I are able to return to our own realm," she tells me and, from the corner of my eye, I can see Sammy snicker to himself.

Of course she's married.

"Then no," I shake my head and she departs, leaving Sammy and I alone with the angel who has zero appreciation for our fine surroundings.

"Check it out," Sammy comments, temporarily abandoning his anger towards me in his own happy fascination with our new accommodations. He walks towards the center of the large, luxurious white room where a long, black table bears silver platters filled with an assortment of fine looking foods. "You hungry?"

"Always," the snack table motivates me to get off my ass for a few minuets.

This buffet is filled with everything from fruit and vegetables to finger sandwiches, small cakes and everything in between. There's even an opened bottle of wine and two glasses.

"Free booze is free booze," I shrug, helping myself to a large glass with one hand as I shovel sandwiches into my mouth with the other. "Oh, man. This stuff's way better than the crap I pay to eat. Cas, I know you don't eat, but you should really try some of this."

"I'm fine, thank you," Cas declines the offer. "I think I will join Jude and the others in the main room. I don't need rest."

"Suit yourself," I shrug before taking a gulp of wine, watching him vanish without a goodbye. "I feel like a friggin' king right now."

I eat and drink my fill. And then I sleep like a baby for four blissful, uninterrupted hours. When I wake up, I don't want to get up.

If this room and this bed is all an illusion, it's tricked my body into thinking it's real. Seriously, I've never laid on something this comfortable or felt so relaxed my whole life. I'm going to dream about this bed for years to come. You know, if I make it that long.

I finally pull myself out of bed and make use of the claw foot porcelain tub in the large, posh bathroom. I take a long, glorious hot shower and when I return to the bedroom, I find our snack buffet has turned into a dinner buffet, stocked full with steaks, cheeseburgers and ribs.

That's it. Dennis is now my best friend.

This is the most relaxed I've felt since I was four.

Just when I'm trying to decide what to start with - steak or burgers - my serenity comes tumbling down. Should have known that was bound to happen. Any time I find a moment of relaxation, something comes barreling in to remind me relaxation is not meant for hunters.

This reminder comes in the form of a blood curtailing scream that sounds like Jude. Food becomes the furthest thing from my mind as I shake Sammy awake.

"Wha... what?" he grumbles sleepily from beneath the warm comforter.

"I don't know," I admit with a hurried breath. "Jude just screamed though."

"Maybe her and Cas..."

"Dude, no," I shake my head, trying to stomp out any visual before it can reach my mind. "That's just... no. That's not... It sounds like trouble."

I don't wait for Sammy to bring himself back to reality. I'm out the door before he can swing his legs over the bed, tearing down the halls as I brandish my pistol from my pocket.

Upon entering the main room, I see why Jude's so upset. We're not under attack as I assumed, which is good. Unfortunately, there is nothing good about what I see. Clutched in Tyr's thick, muscular arms is the limp body of the blonde witch, Stella.

"I'm sorry, Jude," the Norse god apologizes as he places the eerily still body upon the long table.

Jude says nothing. I watch her eyes well with tears she's unable to prevent from falling as she stares sorrowfully down at Stella's corpse.

"Stella," Jude attempts to shake her ex awake. "Stella, please wake up. Stella, please... Stella? Stella!"

This is hard to watch. Hours ago she was our fearless leader, a ferocious warrior. Right now she looks more like a broken child. I never knew Stella, but Jude's reaction is so heartbreaking I almost feel like crying.

"Stella!" she yells over and over again, clinging to the stiffening body as Sammy finds his way into the room. He, along with Tyr and Cas, attempt to peal our sister away from the table.

"What... what happened?" I choke my question to Tyr, unable to remove my eyes from the morose scene before me.

"It was Stella's idea," the Norse god begins as Jude turns and sobbingly buries her face in Sam's chest while our little brother wraps his arms comfortingly around her shaking form. "We were working on recruitment in Virginia when she told me about a zombie battle in a neighboring town. I... I didn't know she wasn't a hunter. The way she was talking about joining the fight, I thought she'd kill the damn things before." He pauses to hang his head. "It wasn't a zombie that did her in. They held her down while the witch controlling them blasted her with some kind of demonic magic. I couldn't get to her in time. I didn't know... Jude, I am so sorry..."

"Is everyone else okay?" I question the war god, temporarily filling in for Jude.

"I think so," he guesses. "I brought us here as soon as I could reach her."

"Go make sure everyone else is okay," I instruct him. "We'll... we'll take care of Stella."

Tyr doesn't question my orders or my authority. He does as he's asked, quietly removing himself from the winery in a fashion similar to Cas's vanishing tricks. Jude quivers in Sammy's embrace, allowing Cas to place a tender hand upon her shoulder in a silent attempt to comfort her.

"Cas," Jude mutters at long last, lifting her tear streaked face to speak to the angel. "Can you... can you bring her back?"

Cas gives her a painful look, as if her sorrows are mirrored in him. Like he is tormented because she is.

"I don't want to give you false hope, Jude," he slowly replies. "I doubt very much I can bring her back. But for you, I will try."

He keeps his promise, gently placing his right palm upon Stella's cold forehead where he keeps it for several minuets. Jude waits with baited breath, praying to the god that long since abandoned us that her ex can be revived. Even I find myself praying to him, hoping Jude can break free of her state of misery.

But Stella won't wake up. Breath won't enter her lungs, her eyes won't open and her heart won't beat. She's gone.

Cas keeps trying. He wants so badly to end Jude's pain it actually hurts him. I'm not going to lie, I'm starting to feel a little bad about the hostility I've displayed for his infatuations towards Jude. I see now they run deeper than a mild crush.

"Cas, let go," I quietly tell him, calmly placing a hand on his shoulder. "She's gone, man."

He knows. He doesn't want it to be so. Begrudgingly he stops trying to revive Stella, giving Jude a sorrowful look as he allows me to coax him back.

The way Jude looks at me is almost frightening. It's filled with self doubt, regret and, above all, blame. She thinks Stella's blood is on her hands. These are all expressions that are far to familiar to me. I've felt these things myself several times in my past. The thing that frightens me the most about these emotions is the one thing they've always led me to think about.

The last time I personally felt like that, I almost gave myself to Michael.

_Damn it, Jude, you better be stronger than me._


	17. Versus Heaven

**Sam**

Jude has a difficult time getting over Stella's passing. In fact, over the course of a couple weeks, she seems to progressively get worse. She maintains a steady enough mind to carry on her duties as the general, but it's not hard to tell her suffering is far from over.

It's not just Stella's death that bothers her, thought it did hit the hardest. Never mind we're in a war. Every casualty sends Jude just that much further over the edge. Every single one of them she needlessly carries the burden of the blame for. She's a lot like Dean in that aspect.

Dean too has noticed her steady decline in mentality. He keeps a close eye on her now not because of the bond she shares with Cas, but because he recognizes that specific pain all too well. Reading her somber facial expressions, he knows first hand the thoughts that race through our sister's mind. From years with Dean, I can recognize them too. And they're far from good.

"This isn't your fault," I attempt to convince her from my seat at the long table in the main room of this hotel/winery facility we've called home for the last two weeks. "I know it's hard, Jude. But you can't blame yourself."

Her sigh is so heavy it almost echoes against the walls in the mostly deserted room.

"How can I not?" is how Jude responds to this. "If it wasn't for me, Stella would be living a happy life back in Detroit."

"She's the one who joined up," I point out. "You didn't force her. You didn't even beg her. She came on her own terms."

"It's not just her," Jude shares. "It's everyone. They'd all be alive if it weren't for me."

I'm about to supply her with attempted comfort, something like "this war is not your fault", but some one beats me to it.

Only it's a lot less comforting than what I was going to say.

"She's right, you know."

We swirl around to see a blonde haired man in his early 30s dressed in a clean white suit standing just behind my older sister. I've never seen this man before in my life, but given his first choice in words, I know I don't like him.

"Who are you?" is the first question that falls from my lips.

A better question would have been what are you. Given the way he got here, my money is on angel.

"Wait, I know you," Jude slivers her eyes at the stranger. "You were there, at the beach. You were going to kill Cas."

"It's true," he doesn't deny this. "And I would have, had you not shown up at the last minuet."

"Well, he's not here," Jude informs him.

Which is true. Cas is with Dean lending a hand in a wraith battle in Texas. If everything goes their way, they should be back soon.

"I know," the mysterious angel smiles. "I didn't come for Castiel. I came for you."

Jude's brows fold into a confused frown.

"What?" I speak up. "Why?"

"Castiel didn't tell you?" the angel in the white suit cocks his head to the side in an amused manner. "Interesting. Given the affections he holds for you, I naturally assumed he told you everything."

"Apparently not," Jude's war face slowly begins to sweep across her brow as she speaks, mentally preparing herself for a fight. "What exactly did Cas not tell me?"

"You're the key to ending all of this, Gloria," he tells my sister. "And we can end it right now. Your friends and lovers can stop needlessly perishing. Blood does not have to continue to stain your hands."

Spoken like a true angel. Dick.

"Let me guess," Jude speaks through clenched teeth. "I have to achieve this peace by dying?"

"Smart girl," he notes. "Too bad. God knows the world needs more brains."

"You're out of your mind," I boldly accuse the angel. "Topaz has a freaking army. You really think she'll call off the whole damn war if Jude dies? You think death will stop Topaz from figuring out a way to use the Stone?"

"Don't worry," the angel gives me false reassurance. "By the time I'm done with your sister, there won't be anything left for Topaz to resurrect. Without the Stone, she's nothing more than a temperamental insect who can easily be squashed."

"If that's all she is, why don't you go kill Topaz?" I challenge. "We're the good guys here!"

"You say that now," the angel says. "Just wait until Jude gets her hands on the Blood Stone, and trust me, if I don't take her now, she will. You should understand, Sam. The Stone to her is as demon blood once was to you. At first you think you can use this power for good. And then you start the apocalypse."

This guy's giving Crowley a run for his money when it comes to "least favorite people", and I don't even know his name. How pathetic for an angel to be less agreeable than the freaking demon king. I should be used to that by now.

"Barachiel," I hear Cas speak out as he materializes in the room with Dean, Gill and Mackenzie at his side.

"Hello again, Castiel," this Barachiel asshole acknowledges the good angel. "That's right, it's Cas now, isn't it?"

"Only my friends get to call me that," Cas says.

Artemis materializes with her half brother, Hercules, along with a hunter and a witch, all returning from the battle in Texas.

"Well," Barachiel says, glancing around at the sudden audience we have. "This looks like it's going to be fun."

He snaps his fingers and the entire room is encircled by angels, all dressed in black suits brandishing angel swords.

"I'm sure these, ahem, 'people' are more than willing to fight us to protect you. Since I'm in a generous mood, I'll give you a choice. I can either kill you right now and everybody in here lives. Or we can slaughter everyone in here to get to you."

"You!" Dean barks, quickly approaching us. "You leave my sister alone!"

"Cute," Barachiel mutters. "For a guy who's about to suffer a fatal heart attack."

Oh, great. Now I'm having Zachariah flashbacks.

The angel's threat doesn't slow Dean down. That is, not until the threat becomes reality and my brother stops dead in his tracks, clutching his chest as he gasps for breath. Jude watches, horrified, as this angel tortures our brother.

"Would you like to jump in here and sacrifice yourself?" Barachiel offers Jude.

Before she can form a response, Cas comes to Dean's rescue and relieves him of his heart attack. Barachiel notices this. He also notices Artemis draw back her bow, Hercules ball his massive fingers into hard fists and Cas unsheathe his own sword.

"Your way it is," Barachiel sighs.

The angels begin to close themselves in on us as we all ready ourselves to fight.

"What's the plan here, general?" Dean mutters to Jude who's still wheeling over Barachiel's words.

"Um..." she falters. "I'm thinking."

"Right," Dean grumbles. "While she's thinking about it, no one die. Cas, I can't promise I won't zap these assholes out of here if shit really hits the fan."

"Understood," Cas accepts as he reveals a second angel sword and passes it to Dean. "I'll protect Jude."

"Like hell you..."

"There is so not time to argue that, Dean," I snap. "Let's go!"

Artemis finds little difficulty holding her own, firing off arrows that actually kill the angels.

"New arrows," she explains to me. "A lot of angels died a few years ago. I collected a handful of blades and made arrows of them."

How clever. And very useful, especially right now.

I stay near my goddess, the goddess of hunters, and do my best with what I have; the freaking demon blade. Which means all I'm doing is slowing them down. Something is better than nothing I guess.

Dean, though clearly exhausted from his recent wraith battle, unblinkingly marches towards the angels and angrily begins sinking his new blade into them as they meet. The witch, Rochelle, manages to put a force field around herself as she attempts to push them back with an unseen energy. From the corner of my eye I can see Hercules tackle and pummel angels with his raw strength. This knocks them down, but only temporarily. Once the angels realize what's going on, they knock him off of them.

This next part I have the unfortunate luck of witnessing. An angel sinks his blade into Hercules's stomach as the demigod advances upon him. Another angel swoops in and slits his throat. And Hercules is no more.

When I glance around I see Wade, the hunter who came here with Artemis, on the floor in a pool of his own blood. Upon further inspection of the situation, I notice Mackenzie lying eerily still on the white tiled floor.

Oh, no. She was such a nice girl. I was just about ready to ask her out, too.

A sudden hot light illuminates the room, consuming everything in its path. It's so bright even the angels have to pause to turn their eyes away.

And they're gone. Every angel who didn't perish in the fight. Except for Cas.

The survivors look wearily around and when we find no trace of the attackers, we all look to Jude. She looks upon the scene and it takes every ounce of strength she has not to break down right here and now.

"I put up a wall," she chokes. "Should keep unwanted visitors from reappearing. I... I should have done that in the first place. I'm sorry."

"If they're not getting back in," Dean speaks up. "Then you're not leaving."

"Okay," she quietly accepts.

There's something seriously troubling about her response. She accepted Dean's order without putting up a fight. She's never done that before. Not once.

That's actually really disconcerting.

"Who was that guy anyway?" Dean asks Cas as Jude's eyes fall to Mackenzie's lifeless body and I can almost hear her heart break for Gill. "Barachiel was it?"

"He's an archangel," Cas explains. "He's in charge of Heaven now."

"What the hell was he doing here?" Dean wants to know and Cas sighs.

"He is under the impression that the war will end if Jude dies," he informs those of us who are still a little hazy on why we just fought with angels. He pauses to look over Jude who can't tear her eyes away from Gill who mournfully kneels beside his fallen daughter.

"Jude," the angel speaks softly. "I'm... I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I thought I could protect you."

"It's not your fault, Cas," Jude replies, her voice barely above a whisper.

"It was," the angels insists.

It kind of was. He didn't send them after her, but he knew they'd be coming. Which would have been useful information. It's like Dean and the ghouls all over again.

"No," Jude tells him, absently shaking her head as she speaks, her eyes still on Mackenzie and Gill. "It's... you didn't send them. Even if we knew they were coming, what could we have done?"

Good point. A heads up still would have been useful and appreciated.

"I'm sorry, Jude," Cas feels compelled to apologize to her again.

"It'll all be alright," she whispers back. "It should all be over soon."

How disturbingly ominous.


	18. Spilled Blood & Heartache

**Castiel**

The behavior Jude displays over the course of the few days that follow Barachiel's attack frighten her brothers. She becomes silent, sleepless and it's not difficult to see the self loathing that consumes her. It's so strong even I, the one person who believed she could pull herself from these depths, am beginning to grow concerned.

Especially when the third day rolls around and nobody's seen her.

"Her door is locked," Dean tells me as he stands anxiously in the hallway.

I've never seen Dean look so afraid.

"You try," he tells me, adding with a grumble, "You guys have that weird bond going on. Her and I usually end up fighting."

I'm somewhat touched Dean's finally accepted this detail. It's too bad it took a moment like this to bring it out of him.

"What's going on?" Sam approaches us with a nervous but inquisitive look laced across his face.

"Jude locked herself in her room," Dean fills in the youngest Winchester who can't hide how nervous this makes him as I tap softly upon the door.

"Jude?" I calmly speak. "Is everything alright?"

"Um... yeah..." she quietly calls back. "Just... just come back later, okay?"

Under normal circumstances I would. But there's something in her tone that tells me everything is far from alright.

"I don't buy it," Dean agrees with my theory. "Unlock it."

I shake my head.

"I'll go in," I tell him in a low tone. "If you are needed, I will unlock it."

"Dude, that's our sister in there..."

I don't wait for him to finish. In less than second's time, I stand within the bedroom Jude once shared with Mackenzie, which is a more colorful version of Dean and Sam's room; lavender carpeting, rose colored bedspreads, powder blue walls.

Jude rises quickly from her seat on the bed when she notices my presence. She twists around to face me, swiftly tucking her arms behind her back as she does this.

"Cas," she furrows her brows at me. "I thought I told you to come back later."

"You also told me you were alright," I respond. "I assumed you meant the opposite of what you were saying."

When I see the blood dripping onto the carpet behind her at an alarming rate, I realize what she's hiding is no object or forbidden substance. My heart sinks as my eyes grow wide in horror.

"What have you done?" I question as I slowly stride towards her, stopping when only a few inches separate us.

My blue eyes I lock into her gem hued eyes as I gently stroke her silky dark hair. I can hear her heartbeat increase as her cheeks begin to flush in embarrassment. I stare into her as my hands gingerly place themselves upon her shoulders and tenderly slide themselves down to her elbows in a wordless effort to coax her into showing me.

She does, her gaze never wavering from my own as she slowly allows me to pull her forearms into view. When I stare down upon them, I want to cry. The arms I gently hold in my hands bear deep cuts that run from her wrists and don't stop until they've reached her elbows. Blood seeps from these fresh, self inflicted wounds and dribbles down her arms, onto her clothing, into the carpet.

I can feel my heart breaking.

"Why?" I want to understand the pain that led her to choose this.

"Too many people... they've died... because of me..." her thoughts are uncollected, scattered in her rapid loss of blood.

"No, Jude," I shake my head. "They died for you. I almost died for you." Pause. "I would die for you."

She's been aware this whole time of my attraction to her. Her pained, hopeless expression softens into understanding, realizing for the first time what she really means to me. I don't just love her. I'm in love with her. And now she knows this.

"I'm... I'm so sorry..." she whispers and I can hear the guilt rise in her tone.

I tuck her dark hair behind her ears, staring into her once more as I send enough energy to unlock the door. At first, when Dean and Sam come charging in, it appears to them that I am about to place my lips upon Jude's. Panic arises when they notice the blood that oozes from their sister's arms.

Gently I lay my fingertips upon her forehead. Her self inflicted wounds mend at my touch and she lets loose a long, embarrassed sigh.

"Dean," my gruff voice speaks as my eyes remain fastened upon Jude. "Sam. Keep a close eye on your sister."

Sure his sister is clear of danger from her own selfish mistake, Dean quickly approaches and takes a firm grasp of Jude's wrist.

"I can't believe you," he fumes at her. "How could you...?"

"I'm sorry," Jude's cheeks turn a bright shade of red as her words fall from her lips. "You wouldn't understand..."

"Bull shit," Dean snaps back. "You don't think I've been there, Jude? You don't think any of us have been there before? Bobby? Dad? We've all felt like putting a bullet in our brains. But we never friggin' did it."

"Dean, I'm sorry..." Jude tries again as her big brother tries to drag her into the hallway with him. "Sam?"

Sam turns his head away from her. He doesn't know what to say.

"Make sure she never leaves your sights," I instruct the Winchester men. "I'm taking over."

Dean frowns at this, turning to face me when he reaches the door frame.

"What?" he questions. "Seriously?"

"Yes," I nod. "I've lead an army before."

"Yeah," Dean agrees, the anger in his tone never faltering. "And then you ate Purgatory and exploded Leviathans."

"Jude clearly needs rest," I continue, ignoring his last comment. "Who do you suggest takes her place while she recovers?"

"I don't know," Dean begins. "Tyr. Morrigan. Friggin' Pele."

"I like this as much as you do, Dean," I calmly tell the hunter. "Under the circumstances, your cooperation would be appreciated."

I stare unblinkingly at my friend until he begrudgingly accepts my place as the new commanding officer.

"Come on," Dean tugs at Jude's arm. "I'm not done yelling at you."

Jude follows her brothers, glancing sorrowfully back at me. She's already apologized, but her eyes say more than her lips ever could. Truly she regrets her thoughtless attempt and it's not her brothers she laments harming, but rather me. She let me down and that, to her, is more embarrassing than her selfish actions.

She thinks I've lost hope in her. She thinks I hate her.

I could never hate such a beautiful creature. While my hope in her has shattered, it's still there. And I'll cling to it for as long as I can. I can't shake my beliefs in her, not even if I wanted to.

As I said, I don't just love her. I'm in love with her. She is stronger than this. I know she is. I just pray she can see it in herself and overcome the darkness that plagues her.


	19. Snap Back To Reality

**Jude**

What I'm about to tell you may sound kind of crazy. In moments of despair, my mind attempts to defend itself from darkness by producing images of things that never have nor ever will come to pass. Call them detailed daydreams if you will. More often than not they're of the life I would have had if mom hadn't died, if Sam weren't the demon child, Dean not Michael's vessel and I wasn't a witch.

In this dream, we're all happy. Dad fixes up cars and plays basketball at the park on the weekends with old marine buddies. Mom is a kind, encouraging and loving woman who likes to cook and bake. Sam, he's a big, successful lawyer in some major city in the Northwest and married to a nice, pretty woman named Sarah, who's expecting their first child. Dean followed in dad's footsteps by joining the marines and, when his tour was over, opened up a garage with our dad. They call it Winchester & Sons Auto, and I know Dean plans to leave it to the son he shares with his beautiful, long time girlfriend, Rachel.

Interestingly, in this dream I'm not exactly what you'd call successful, but I am happy which, really, is true success. I'm the typical rebellious and wild middle child. Never went to college, didn't join the army. Traveled the country after high school graduation and from there the world. When I was satisfied with what I had seen, I returned home to Lawrence. Now I tend a bar on weekday evenings and play with a rock band most Saturday nights. Sundays are family dinner nights at the folk's house where we - mom, dad, Dean, his adorable son Logan, Rachel and myself - always call Sam to check in and catch up.

I've kept these dreams for as long as I can remember. They evolve over time to reflect the people we've grown to be and sometimes the people who cross our paths. For instance, Cas is now here. Ever since I met him, even before I found myself falling for him, he found a place in my dreams. Here, in this imaginary life that exists in my head, he's become the One.

The glorious thing a string of terrible and rocky relationships with other men and women led me to. Dean introduced us, having met Cas while in the marines. It was on a sandy beach on Maui where we first met, all of us on a short vacation from the apple pie life, and it was love at first sight. When it was time to part ways, Cas went back to Northern Michigan where he sold his house and half his possessions to move to Lawrence, just so he could be with me. He's a professor at the University where he teaches Theology and Mythology. Any day now he'll propose. Dad let it slip after Cas asked his permission to marry me. He's kind of old fashioned like that.

It's these dreams that invaded my mind when I slit my wrists, before Cas interrupted what is now the biggest mistake I've ever made. Not Brent or Stella or Mackenzie. I thought of them before I decided suicide was my only option. My dreams kicked in when I begged for one final moment of happiness.

So maybe I am a little insane. I know the few who know what I did think this. Not that I've ever been one to care what others think of me and I'm still not. Except when it comes to Cas. He I hurt more than myself, I see that now. I find disgust in myself for letting him down.

I may have hurt Cas, but this hasn't stopped him from protecting me, from loving me. He's taken charge while my mind resets and still, his main concern is me. I don't deserve it, not after what I tried to do, but I thank God he stuck around. I still hope after all this is over, he sticks around for a little while longer.

"You need anything?" Sam interrupts my thoughts as I stare silently out the massive window in their bedroom and into the vineyard.

"Yeah," I speak without breaking my gaze upon the outside world. "I need to freaking get out of here."

"No way," Dean shakes his head. "Even if the angels weren't after you, you're staying here."

I can feel warmth gather in my face. I've always prided myself in my ability to take care of myself. It's embarrassing not only that I've proved otherwise but that my brothers feel the need to keep a very close, watchful eye on me. Especially when it comes to Sam. He's my little brother, I'm the one who's supposed to watch out for him.

"Look, I'm fine now," I try to convince them. "Really. That was the dumbest thing I've ever done and I swear I'll never do it again."

"No dice," Dean shakes his head. "You don't like constant supervision? Don't friggin' try to kill yourself."

I roll my eyes before finally glancing up at what's left of my family.

"I just said I'm not going to," I tell him, but he doesn't find reassurance in my words. "Alright. Whatever. Can I at least go to the main room? I feel like I've been cooped up in here for a year already. I hardly know what's going on anymore."

A week being mostly confined to your brother's room passes at a painfully slow rate. And I really don't know what's going on with the war, which is certainly something I should catch up on. Besides, it would be nice to see Cas. He's checked in on me a few times, but I miss his persistent company. If anyone can really make me feel okay again, it's probably him.

Both Dean and Sam eye me and my request warily. If anything good has come from this whole dramatic scenario, it's that Sam has finally laid aside the anger he's kept for Dean and his secrets. It's good to see them back to normal.

"I don't know Jude," Dean grumbles with a long sigh of frustration.

"Come on, Dean," Sam takes my side. "We really can't keep her locked up in here. It might do her some good to see all the people who are still fighting for the cause. I'm sure they'd like to see she's alive, too."

"Fine," Dean hesitantly accepts. "But if you feel like you're going to break down, you're coming straight back here."

I feel like I'm 15 again, about to embark on my first real hunt with dad and Dean.

"I said I'm alright," I roll my eyes. "Lets just go already."

Dean takes the lead while Sam hangs back to walk with me.

"You're sure you're alright?" he challenges me with an air of suspicion in his voice.

"I'm a Winchester," I say. "There's a good chance I'll never actually be alright."

"That's not what I mean," he speaks in a low tone and I sigh. "I mean, you'd tell us if you started to feel... you know... again. Right?"

"I'm not going to," I tell him for the hundredth time today. "And I'm better than I was last week. It's going to take some time, you know?"

"Yeah," Sam nods. "Just... don't do that again, okay?"

"I won't," I swear. "What have you guys been telling everyone anyway?"

"Cas told them Barachiel made you sick," my younger brother fills me in. "He told them since Barachiel is an archangel, his own angel magic was taking a while to heal you. Said you were not to be disturbed."

I appreciate they've managed to keep my temporary lapse in judgment to themselves.

The main room is not heavily occupied, which makes my sudden presence all the more noticeable. Every eye looks away from Cas, turning their attention to me as I awkwardly make my way into the room.

"Jude," Cas speaks with a slow smile. "I'm glad you're feeling better."

"Thanks," I say as I slowly take a seat at the table across from the angel.

"We were discussing sending a search party out for Coyote and Horace," he fills me in. "They've been out of contact for too long."

"I will lead the party," Artemis says. "If they have been captured, they must know how to find Topaz."

More likely than not, if they've been captured, they're already dead. Hmm. That was a grim thought. Gotta find some hope...

"Morrigan has agreed to oversee the research for Topaz," Cas continues, studying me as he speaks. "We'll have a better chance of winning this thing if we find her base and destroy as much of her operation as we can. Take the battles to her."

"Agreed," I nod, finding the hope I needed in his eyes. "What can I do?"

"You can rest," Cas gently instructs me. "I have a feeling we will need you soon and we need you at one hundred percent."

I open my lips to argue this, but nothing comes out. I'm over the suicidal thoughts and I am better. Just not one hundred percent. I'm not going to lie to him. Not when I'm trying to prove to him that the girl he saw last week is not me, nor will it ever be again.

A loud voice erupts from within the winery and it's not hard to tell who this voice comes from.

"I'm his damn invitation," it booms loudly throughout the facility. "He's with me. Yes I know what he is! I'm bringing' him in anyway! Now let me through!"

Paul. Considering how deep and loud his voice is, and the way I can actually hear him stomping about, I'd say this is ten feet tall Paul. Nine and a half at the least.

He enters the room only minuets later with Aednat and her husband, Barram on his heels. He's also got a man who looks like Perseus clutched uncomfortably under one arm. The way Paul throws this man onto the table and the way this person reacts to such treatment tells all of us this is not Perseus. The first hint actually comes from the fact that the Greek demigod is already here, and he's not a fan of this guy wearing his face.

"Shifter?" Cas assumes the same thing we all do and Paul nods, maintaining his enormous height to instill fear upon the creature he dragged here.

"Found him lurking a few miles down the road," Paul informs us. "Got a few details out of him. You wanna share with everybody here all nice like or do you wanna go another round?"

The Perseus dressed shifter gives a nervous glance around the room but does not supply us with a single word.

"Speak!" Paul barks, pounding his fist upon the table so hard the wood splits a good foot down the center.

"Alright," the shifter finally speaks up. "Alright. My name is Fredrick. I'm a spy for the future queen."

"I think he means Topaz," Dean whispers from beside me. Duh.

"No one cares who you are," Paul spits down. "It's what you know that interests us."

"It doesn't matter," the shifter says. "She knows where you are. She's coming. And she's going to win."

"Cocky son of a bitch, isn't he?" I attempt to lighten the otherwise ominous statement. "Alright, she's on her way. Where exactly is Topaz?"

"It doesn't matter," the shifter repeats. "You can torture me all you'd like. I'm not telling you shit."

His focus becomes distracted by a new and unannounced visitor and his face twists with confusion and anger.

"Benny?" Fredrick growls and everyone turns to eye this intruder, a bearded man in his mid to late thirties with dirty blonde hair, dressed in blue jeans, a gray sweater and a long black pea coat.

How'd he get past my spell?

Aednat and Barram, the fairies who were supposed to be guarding the place, advance upon the stranger when Dean stops them.

"He's cool!" he almost shouts. "He's with me."

Ah. This vampire is a welcome guest in Dean's eyes.

"I thought you died in battle?" Fredrick goes on, looking between Dean and Benny. "You... you betray us? Now? Just when victory is upon us?"

"Oh, no Fredrick," the vampire shakes his head as his lips release his words in a thick southern drawl. "I ain't betrayin' ya now. I've been on their side this whole damn time."

"You... you son of a bitch!" the shifter screams and Paul has to restrain him from attacking our top secret spy.

"You boys may as well kill him now," Benny looks to Dean as he speaks before eyeing Paul with a great interest. "I know more'n this guy will ever tell you."

Dean doesn't hesitate. He draws his favorite gun from his inner jacket pocket and quickly puts a silver bullet between Fredrick's eyes. My older brother's kept a fairly deep hatred for shape shifters ever since one stole his face and framed him for murder.

"How'd you find us?" Dean questions the vampire as he returns his gun to his jacket pocket.

"Topaz knows where you are," Benny informs us. "Everyone does. I slipped away in the middle of a demon battle. Figured now would be a good time to meet up."

It's good to know the demons are still lending a hand.

"She's gettin' desperate," the vampire continues. "You guys are killin' more'n she can make at this point. Should be here in about five days. And she ain't alone."

"No?" Cas speaks up. "Who is she with?"

"Everyone you didn't kill."


	20. Neigh

**I wasn't planing on posting this one until Sunday but a couple of you were nice enough to leave me awesome reviews so, this one's for you! :) Enjoy!**

**Dean**

The information coming from Benny's lips is discouraging, to say the least.

"Basically what you're telling us," I begin. "Is this is the final round? Winner takes all?"

"Yep," Benny nods.

Damn.

"Get everyone back here," Jude instructs Cas before turning her attention back to Benny. "Where is she keeping her armies?"

"Everywhere," Benny informs her. "They're constantly on the move."

"You hear any word about Coyote or Horace?" Jude questions and Benny shakes his head.

Sammy watches this with conflicting emotions. On one hand, here's the vampire I've kept a somewhat hypocritical and fairly secret friendship with. On the other, he's supplying us with the best intel we've gotten in weeks, even if it is terrible news.

"I am here," the Egyptian god, Horace, materializes before our eyes. "Coyote is keeping a watch for the armies. He picked up a good scent when they caught him."

"Where the hell have you been?" Jude wants to know, both relieved the gods are still alive and upset neither did a spectacular job in the communications department.

"Coyote and I felt it best you remain unaware to our whereabouts," Horace calmly explains. "When we discovered there was no solid base but several in constant motion, we began tracking them. You all seemed to be fairing well in the battles. I observed from the skies and kept many spies off your backs. Then Coyote was captured and I felt compelled to rescue him."

I assure you, the irony in Horace and Coyote's friendship isn't lost on me. You got Horace, the golden hawk sky god, hanging out with Coyote, the Native American trickster god whose name is pretty self explanatory. Basically what I'm saying is, I'm a little surprised Coyote hasn't tried to eat Horace.

"We have bigger matters to attend to," Horace goes on. "Topaz is gathering her armies."

"Yeah," I nod, motioning towards my vampire buddy. "Benny told us."

"We must make preparations with haste," Horace dramatizes the situation.

No kidding.

The next few days are hectic and chaotic, to say the least. Cas calls in every single god, hunter and witch, offering transportation to those who can't reach us fast enough or don't have a god on their team. Morrigan and Artemis take charge of stocking the arsenal while Horace retrieves information from Coyote. Erin, the Fairy Land ambassador, returns to her own realm to collect the troops promised by her king. Garth calls me to inform me everything got quiet. Real quiet.

"Yeah," I already figured. "Battle is neigh. Where you been this whole time, anyway?"

"Someone's gotta hold down the regular crazy," he tells me. "Vengeful spirits haven't exactly taken interest in this little war. Anyway, most of my contacts are on duty with you guys. Been helping them out as much as I can from my end."

"Fair enough," is what I tell him. "You keep doing that then."

"Let me know how it all works out," he says before hanging up. "Kick some monster ass."

That's the plan.

Jude begins to worry about her numbers when Horace reports Coyote has picked up the scent of monsters whose numbers range in the thousands. We've got a thousand fairies and a hand full of gods, plus an angel, a bunch of witches and not as many hunters as we started with. Versus thousands of the undead. Freaking peachy.

We all start to feel a little relieved when Tyr shows up with a pleased look upon his face, along with a blonde witch named Sage, who looks just as pleased as the god she accompanies.

"You find more recruits?" Jude asks hopefully.

"Yes," Tyr proudly nods. "Men! Present yourselves!"

They appear from thin air, filling the room with their misty forms. Most of them are men, though I can see a handful of women. All of them are dressed in a colorful fusion of time and reflect a multitude of the jobs they once had. Some, several in fact, were clearly Vikings in their day. Others appear to be medieval knights, some wear American Civil War uniforms. Just to give you an example of what we're looking at right now.

"Ghosts?" Jude questions as she eyes her new recruits.

"Yes," Tyr nods again. "One thousand strong. You told me to be creative."

"That's pretty creative," Jude admits.

"They can all hold weapons," he assures her. "Before she passed, Stella found a way to bind them to small objects."

He holds out a fist full of brass rings.

"We will all carry some with us into battle," he goes on. "To keep them with us."

"Excellent," Jude seems enthused with her sudden spike in troop members.

Throughout the chaos, Sam and I manage to keep a close watch on Jude. Her little attempt scared the living hell out of us. Wiping our minds is one thing. Trying to take herself out entirely is much, much worse.

She does seem to be doing better. She's a lot less spacey than she was last week. It's good her head's back in the game, especially now.

When Cas has retrieved everyone, we sit down to discuss the plan. You know, besides the obvious kicking of ass. While discussing the front lines, Jude mentions her intentions of joining the fight.

"No way," is my first reaction. "You're staying here. If they get a hold of you, the war is over."

"You're right," Cas agrees, but in a way that tells me my speculation has given him an idea. "If they get a hold of Jude, the war is over..."

"Can't say I'm overly excited about that tone," I confess, watching Cas ponder.

"No, I think he's on to something," Jude speaks up. "They won't kill me, they need me alive. What if I got into battle and allow myself to get caught?"

"That sounds great," I begin, my voice thick with sarcasm. "Oh, wait, no, it sounds terrible."

"Just hear me out," Jude calmly continues. "Sam, you were able to override Lucifer long enough to throw him back in the cage, right?"

Sammy nods, shuddering at the memories this triggers.

"Lucifer's a hell of a lot stronger than Topaz," Jude explains. "Even if she does mind control me, maybe I can fight myself free from it and use the Stone to get rid of her?"

"Lets not put all our eggs in the maybe basket just yet," I'm not crazy about Jude's uncertainty as to whether or not she can free herself from a Topaz controlled mind bend. "I'm not going to let you go in there if you don't know if you can break mind control. That's too big a risk."

"What if she wasn't alone?" Cas questions.

"I'm pretty sure they'd notice if she came in with an angel," I state and Cas shakes his head.

"That's not exactly what I mean," he says. "I remembered when Jude mentioned Sam and Lucifer. She's a Winchester."

"Yeah," I nod. "So?"

I realize after the words have left my mouth what Cas means.

"You're not wearing my sister to battle," I firmly insist, denying his idea.

"Why not?" Cas wants to know why I think this is such a bad idea. "If she is harmed, I will be able to heal her. Topaz won't be able to mind control an angel occupied vessel. There's little to no risk of the Stone corrupting Jude if I'm there."

Okay, good points. How else can I argue this one?

"What about the angels?" I point out. "Don't you think that'd just make it easier to get to both of you?"

"Not necessarily," Cas shakes his head. "Besides, they'll have to get through me to get to Jude anyway."

That's adorable and nauseating at the same time. It's also pretty comforting knowing there's an angel watching out for my little sister. Kind of makes me realize this whole time I've been wary of Cas's little crush, his main concern has been protecting her.

Man, I'm a jerk.

And it is kind of a solid plan, given the circumstances. I'm still not excited about the idea of Jude walking into this whole mess, but at the end of the day, she's the only one who can.

"Of course I'll need Jude's permission," Cas goes on when no one disagrees with his idea.

All eyes fall to Jude.

"Yes," she nods in acceptance. "You may use me. You just gotta promise me one thing though."

"What's that?" Cas questions curiously.

"You have to kill as many of those bastards as you can before we get caught."

Cas smiles.

"I think I can arrange that," he agrees.

"Excuse me," Aednat approaches the table. "There's someone at the door requesting your presence, Jude."

"What?" my sister furrows her brows at the strange request. "Who could I possibly have asking to see me that can't get past security?"

"He said his name is Crowley," the fairy reports. "He looks to be a demon."

"He is," I confirm. "What's he want with Jude?"

"He wouldn't say," she reports. "Shall I send him away?"

"No," Jude shakes her head as she rises from her seat at the long table. "I'm kind of curious to see what he wants."

I'll admit, it is curious. Honestly, if it were me, I'd be satisfied leaving my curiosity right where it is and let Crowley stand outside until he got bored enough to leave. But Jude's interest begs her to go outside, so I follow, along with Sam, Cas, Paul and Tyr. Like hell we're going to let her talk to the demon king alone.

Sure enough, Crowley stands beneath a hot afternoon sun when we exit the winery, patiently awaiting my sister's presence. He lacks surprise upon seeing the company she's brought with her.

"That's right," Crowley skips the greeting process entirely. "You Winchesters are hard to separate."

"I sincerely hope you didn't come all this way to make simple observations," Jude speaks. "We're a little too busy for that."

"Yes, I know," Crowley nods. "You're about to be neck deep in undead."

"Translation," I step into the conversation. "Get to the point or we're going back to business."

"So hostile," Crowley observes.

"You should be used to it by now," I snap back.

"Now whose wasting time?" the demon says and Jude rolls her eyes.

"I think we've established our feelings for each other," my sister swoops back in. "Now, what's this about?"

"You're adorable little army lacks numbers," Crowley states.

"Maybe," Jude's cautious about giving him too much information. "Maybe not. What's it to you?"

"If by 'maybe not' you're referring to your little ghost army," Crowley says. "It's clever, really. I'll give you that. I can do you one better."

"Oh?" Jude cocks a brow suspiciously.

"One thousand demons," the demon king offers sweetly.

"In exchange for...?" Jude waits for him to say "your soul" or "Texas".

"You don't believe I can do something out of the kindness of my heart?" Crowley pretends to be hurt by Jude's insinuation.

"You've screwed us over enough for us to know better by now," I tell him. "So you can take your demon army and shove it up your..."

"Unless this is an invitation only battle," Crowley cuts me and my insult off. "I'll have to be rather insistent they be there. I'm not really asking if you'd like them there. They'll be on the field whether you like it or not." He pauses to glance back to Jude. "Can't have too many soldiers, am I right?"

"I suppose not," my sister reluctantly agrees. "What's your gain in this? Why help us?"

"My gain is not letting those filthy Purgatory rats take over the whole bloody planet," Crowley says. "And I'm not exactly helping you. I'm helping myself. We just happen to have the same goal. So, you and your army can either fight along side mine, or you can wage two wars in one day and annihilate your entire operation."

"Well, alright," Jude slowly nods. "Since you're coming anyway."

"Like I said," Crowley speaks. "I wasn't asking your permission." He pauses to give us a small smirk. "See you in two days."

And he vanishes.

"I don't like this," I tell Jude as we make our way back into the winery.

"Me either," Cas agrees with my rightful wariness.

Crowley never does anything "just because". So maybe he sees Topaz as a threat. Fine, he hates the stupid witch. I'll let him. But this whole helping us win the battle makes me nervous. I don't even want to think of 1,000 demons on earth, let alone in one place at the same friggin' time and I can't exorcise a single one of them.

"Yeah, I'm a little suspicious too," Jude fully admits. "I say we let them fight with us and once it's over, find a way to exorcise them. We'll worry about Crowley's alternate motives later. He won't matter if we don't win this."


	21. Chemicals

**Jude**

Night before battle. Can't sleep. I'll sleep when this is all over. If everything goes our way, by this time tomorrow I'll be sleeping quite peacefully for the first time since this whole thing started.

You know. Since I was two.

Dean seems to have a similar problem. He's been hanging out in my room for the past hour or so, flipping through one of my spell books on the unoccupied bed adjacent to my own.

"I can't believe Sam's able to sleep," I break the pleasant silence, looking up from the music magazine I've been casually glancing over.

"I still can't believe you're a witch," Dean casually comments in return. "Have you used all of these?"

"No," I shake my head. "I don't touch the love spells. Or the curses."

"Good call," Dean nods. He gives a long pause to mull over the next words in his head.

"Look, Jude," he slowly begins. "If something happens tomorrow and... well... I just want you to know that I forgive you."

My heart about stops when I hear this.

"For what?" I have to ask, just to be sure. I think I know, but I can't be certain. I am pretty good at clashing with my big brother. We're too much alike for us to get along all the time.

"The memory thing," Dean clarifies. "I mean, it was a crappy thing to do and I hope to god you never do that to me again. But I forgive you."

The smile that spreads across my face is unavoidable. I've waited a very long time to hear this. I can tell it's not just the impending battle that brings these words out, although it does encourage them. He does, at last, truly forgive me.

"Oh, Dean," I move myself from my seat on my bed to give him a tight hug. "Thank you."

"Yeah," Dean returns my embrace. "Seriously though. Never do that to us again."

"I promise," I assure him.

"Jude," Cas's sudden voice speaks out from somewhere behind me.

I break my embrace with my big brother, turning to face the handsome angel who now stands at the center of the room.

"You wanted to see me?" he half states, half questions.

My heart flutters as I give him a small nod.

"Yeah," I say, nervously turning back to my brother. "You think you could give us some time?"

I find complete surprise when Dean barely puts up a fight. I can't tell if he's finally accepted his friend and his sister share a significant, unspoken bond, or if it's one of those "we could all be dead tomorrow, so why not" kind of moments.

"Uh, sure," he slowly begins, still not entirely enthusiastic but far more understanding all the same. "I'll just... uh... I'll go see what Artemis is up to."

He gradually lifts himself into a standing position, eyeing Cas as he makes his way out of the bedroom.

"Just remember," he speaks to the angel. "That's my sister. And I still have that angel sword..."

"Dean!" I half scold, half roll my eyes.

"Yeah, yeah," he mutters. "I'm going."

"Sorry," I tell Cas once Dean has exited and quietly closed the door behind him.

"Dean is quite protective of you," Cas comments and I shrug.

"Old habits die hard I guess," I say as I take a seat on the edge of my bed. "You're welcome to sit, if you'd like."

"I think I'm..." Cas begins, his words falling when he looks into my eyes and a slow smile creeps across his face. "Thank you."

He takes a slow seat on the bed beside me, appearing timid as he sits. I know the things he feels for me are relatively new, which is somewhat shocking considering his age. Something equally as shocking are how fresh my own feelings for him are. I'm usually the type of girl who sees and conquers. I've never found anyone I really wanted to know before involving myself with. This bond we share, it's incredibly deep and intense, which is far more frightening to me than the fact that this guy is a powerful celestial being.

"What was it you wanted to speak with me about?" he nervously questions.

"First of all," I begin, positioning myself on the bed so I can face him. "I wanted to apologize for my stunt the other week. I know it was painful to see me like that and I just want you to know that was a one time only kind of deal. I promise you I will never do that again."

"I'm just glad you're alright now," he accepts my apology, carefully placing a tender hand upon my own and I don't pull away from this small display of affection. "I knew you were strong enough to pull yourself out from despair."

"You helped," I tell him honestly, my blue and green eyes settling comfortably into his.

He smiles at this and allows me to inch myself closer to him.

"What was the other thing?" he questions curiously as my heart beats furiously within my chest.

"It's more of a confession than anything," I admit as I get that old butterfly in the stomach feeling. "I've noticed you've been harboring certain emotions towards me."

"Yes," Cas doesn't deny this, momentarily glancing away in a sheepish manner. "I suppose I haven't been very stealthy about that."

"It's okay," I quickly assure him, sliding closer still until less than an inch separates us and he returns his gaze to me. "Because I think... no, I _know_, that whatever you feel for me, I feel them back." I pause, finding that comfortable place in his eyes once more that gives me the courage to finish what I want to say. "I'm... I've fallen in love with you."

Cas beams.

"We don't necessarily have to do anything about it," I begin the babbling part of the confession process. "I just wanted you to know. In case anything happens tomorrow."

"I'm glad you told me," Cas speaks as he fondly begins to stroke my thick, dark hair with his gentle hands.

Whether it's intentional or not, my head begins to drift gradually closer to his own.

"I'm probably going to kiss you right now," I warn him with a whispered breath.

"No," he shakes his head. "I believe I am going to kiss you first."

And he does. For a beautiful moment in time we stay just that way; his lips upon mine, his fingers gently running through my hair as I place a soft hand on the back of his head, attempting to keep him here for as long as I possibly can. Gradually he begins to pull me into him and before I know it we're laying upon the soft blankets that cover my bed, our lips still locked as we fall feverishly into our passionate kiss.

We pause for a few moments at a time to slowly remove an article of clothing from each other until...

(Scene Removed)

What? Seriously? It was quite tastefully done. And very much needed.

If I die tomorrow, I'll die an incredibly happy witch.


	22. Before The Storm

**Sam**

Dean doesn't knock before entering Jude's room anymore. Not since her incident. Given who Dean told me he left Jude with last night, I can't say I'm entirely surprised when he returns to our room with a disturbed expression on his face only two minuets after he left.

"What's worse?" he asks me. "Seeing your sister naked or seeing your best friend naked?"

Sounds like someone finally made a move.

"I'm not going to think about that," I wave the question away from my mind. "And neither should you. We've got a date with a couple thousand monsters and witches in, like, an hour. Remember?"

This does clear Dean's mind from the temporary trauma of walking in on naked Cas and Jude. Only, not in the way I thought it would.

"Yeah, about that," he slowly begins.

There's something in his tone that indicates I'm not going to like what he's about to say. I narrow my eyes at him, studying his stance.

"You're going to try to leave me here," I guess. "Aren't you?"

"Look, Sammy," Dean sighs. "Jude and I talked about it and we both think it would be best if you stayed behind on this one."

"I'm so glad you and Jude like to make decisions for me," I tell him with sarcasm. "I'm going, whether you like it or not."

"Listen," Dean tries to make me see his point of view in a manner much calmer than I expected. "I know you want to fight and you would be more than helpful on the battlefield."

"But...?" I fold my arms across my chest.

"But," he goes on. "When this is all said and done, the world needs at least one Winchester. Might as well be the smart one."

"Dean, come on," I start but he cuts me off.

"We need some one to watch Jimmy," he tells me. "You're the best man for the job."

Jimmy? Who's... oh, right. Cas's current vessel. I almost forgot about that. Some lame chore to get me to stay behind.

"Dean," I try again.

"Sammy," he interrupts again, his tone still unusually calm for the argument at hand. "You're not a soldier. You're a hunter. And god knows the world will still need hunters when this is over."

"How can you expect me to just watch you and Jude walk into battle?" I want to know. "To just sit on the sidelines while people die when I can be out there helping them."

"Please, Sammy," Dean almost grovels, his voice still unbelievably calm. "We need you to do this."

That's when I see it. The look on his face. It's laced with fear. Dean's actually scared. His voice, his temper, it's all calm because he knows there's a good chance this is it for him. He doesn't want to fight when the familiar scent of death looms so closely.

I assure you, arguing is the last thing I want to be doing right now. Especially with Dean. But I really can't just let them walk into battle without me.

"I know you're just trying to protect me," I tell Dean. "But you're not a soldier either, and neither is Jude. I can help."

"We know you can, Sam," Jude makes her presence known.

I turn to see our sister wearing black jeans, black boots, a black Ramones t-shirt and her long black trench coat. She carefully holds her double ended scythe in one hand, ready for battle.

"And you're right," she goes on, making her way into Dean's and my bedroom with Cas following shortly behind. "He is trying to protect you. We both are. And we're both confidant you'd be able to hold your own out there. But at least one of us need to walk out of this alive."

They're not going to budge from this one. Part of me wants to keep arguing until they cave and I'm welcomed to the battle fields. Another part of me realizes Jude's probably got Aednat and her husband Barram on stand by to make sure I don't leave with the others.

"Fine," I finally accept with a groan. Just because I've accepted it doesn't mean I like it.

I should be used to that by now.

"Thank you," Jude says, laying her weapon down on the soft carpet before she can give me a long and tight embrace.

"Yeah," I grumble. "Just kill some for me, alright?"

"That's the plan," my sister tells me, slowly pulling away from me. "Listen. Not to get morbid on you or anything but, if anything happens to me out there, I want you to know that everything will be alright."

Doubtful. Granted, I've done alright without her for a while. By now, it would be hard to loose her again. There's also the fact that, if something does happen to her, that would be an incredibly bad thing for our side.

But I give her a small smile anyway. No use in filling her head with useless panic and doubt before the fight to end all fights.

"I love you," her unique eyes stare straight into mine, making sure I know this.

"I love you too," I return before giving her one more quick hug.

"You too, Dean," Jude turns to our big brother for a final embrace. "I know we've had our ups and downs, but there's nothing you could ever do to make me stop loving you."

"Good to know," Dean tries to lighten the heavy mood as he returns Jude's affections. "Sounds like a challenge to work on when we're done kicking the crap out of Topaz's army."

Jude playfully punches Dean in the arm as he gives her a wink.

"Joking," he insists. "I love you too, you little rebel."

Jude inhales a deep, nervous breath before turning to Cas. To the angel she says nothing but rather plants a long, deep kiss upon his lips. A sideways glance tells me while this isn't the most comfortable thing for Dean to witness, he's a lot more relaxed about it than he was even just a few days ago.

"Well?" she says when she pulls away from Cas. "We doing this damn thing or what?"

"Yes," Cas nods. "I need your permission first."

"Those last two times weren't permission enough?" Jude smirks and Dean shudders.

Oh, I get it. Sex joke.

"Ew, Jude," Dean moans. "Thanks for that."

Jude grins, satisfied with herself for weirding Dean out one last time.

"Alright," she speaks to Cas. "I, Gloria Jude Winchester, give permission to Castiel, angel of the Lord, to wear my meat suit into battle and henceforth slay every beast and witch that crosses our united path. How's that?"

"A little excessive," Cas admits, placing his right hand upon Jude's forehead. "But it should do."

A hot, blueish white light ignites from within Cas, spilling out his eyes, his ears, his nose. Dean and I have to look away when the light becomes too intense for our eyes. When it's over, the room seems a little fuzzy and it takes a few moments of hard blinking before everything comes into focus again.

I glance back up in time to watch Cas's original vessel, Jimmy, crumple into an exhausted heap on the white carpet below. Jude slowly bends down to scoop up her scythe before turning to face Dean and I.

"Did it work?" Dean questions.

"Why would it not?" Jude's lips speak Cas's words.

"Right," Dean shakes his head, attempting to get used to this strange, temporary set up. "We're gonna need to get some burgers in here for Jimmy when he wakes up. Remember the last time we found him?"

I do. He ate three cheeseburgers in one sitting. Good thing we're at Dennis's estate. Our room is constantly stocked with a bottomless buffet.

"Listen, Sammy," Dean gradually begins. "If anything happens to me, you take care of yourself okay?"

I can't count how many times we've had to make this speech to each other at this point in our lives. It makes it hard to believe Dean won't come back, we've said goodbye to each other so many times and every time we always come back. Even if we do die.

Which is always when things like that happen. When you least expect it.

"Yeah," I promise.

"You take care of Jude too," Dean tosses in.

"Of course," I nod as we give each other a farewell embrace. "I'll have a bottle of whiskey waiting for you when you get back."

Dean gives me a small smile as I turn to Cas in Jude's body.

"Take care of my sister," I tell him. Her. Whatever he is right now.

"I will protect her with with my life," he/she assures me. "You have my word."

And they're gone. Cas, wearing Jude, transports Dean along with him, leaving me alone with a slowly returning to consciousness Jimmy.

I let out a heavy sigh. I can't believe I'm letting them go without me.

"You okay, man?" I question when I hear Jimmy let out a small moan.

He finds little relief when he looks up and I'm the one he sees.

"Oh no," he groans. "What's going on? Where are we? What year is it?"

"A supernatural civil war," I tell him, stooping down the help the man up. "Lodi, California. 2013."

"What happened to Castiel?" Jimmy wants to know as he slowly rises to his feet.

"He's borrowing another vessel for a few hours," I explain. "We kind of need you to sit tight for a while."

"I was afraid of that," Jimmy groans at my information. "Fine, whatever." He pauses when his eyes find the food table. "You think I could...?"

"Help yourself," I invite him to the feast.

God knows I can't eat anything right now.

"I got a question for you," Jimmy speaks as he shovels food into his mouth.

"Just one?" I ask in return.

"Probably several," he admits, his focus somewhere between the food and me. "But, did I go to Purgatory?"

"Yep," I don't sugarcoat or deny it.

"And Hell?"

"Yes, actually," I nod, remembering Cas's terrible attempt to spring me free from Lucifer's cage.

"Did you explode me?" he wants to know and I hesitate.

"Kind of?" I begin. "I mean, it wasn't me, it was Lucifer."

"You were Lucifer's vessel?" Jimmy asks with a mild fascination. "Damn. And I thought it sucked being a regular angel's vessel."

I sigh. I'm in for a very long day filled with a lot of questions that are going to bring about memories I don't particularly feel like remembering right now.

The things you do for your family.


	23. Good God Y'all

**Castiel**

A thin mist settles over the rolling, vine covered hills as the morning sun attempts to shed its light through a stretch of thick, gray clouds. Our eyes scan the eastern horizons, waiting for the dark army to make its way into view. I stand along the front lines with Dean to the left of me and one thousand fairies behind me. A crow swoops over the valley, calling out in warning to any living creature who should not be there before flapping its black wings in my direction, finding a place to keep watch on my right shoulder.

'It's just Morrigan,' Jude says inside my head, referring to the bird perched upon my shoulder.

'I'm surprised you're this conscious,' I converse with the woman I love inside my head.

'That's because you keep forgetting I'm a witch,' Jude points out. 'And a Winchester.'

I notice a golden hawk soar from the skies and land peacefully in human form, standing along side the other gods, witches and hunters that join us. Coyote, in the shape of said creature, bounds from the opposite end of the valley as the ground begins to vibrate. All signs this battle is about to begin.

'You know what the most interesting thing about this is?' Jude chatters.

'What's that?' I ask as my eyes keep watch on the land before us.

'I can read your mind in here, too.'

That is peculiar.

'I'm not your first, huh?' she states. 'It's okay. You weren't my first either. Kind of surprised I'm only your third though. Also, you did it with a demon?'

'If that's what my memories tell you,' is how I respond to that. 'Not a particularly high point in my life.'

'I'm not judging,' she assures me. 'Speaking of demons, shouldn't there be about a thousand of them lurking around here somewhere?'

According to Crowley, yes. I can't say I'm terribly disappointed they haven't arrived. Even if they are on our side, that many demons is not entirely a comforting thing to have in the vicinity.

"The armies approach," Coyote informs me, taking his human form when he reaches the front lines. "Zombies take the lead. Vampires rank behind them. Wraiths and witches take the back."

"How many?" I question.

"At least two thousand," Coyote states. Even if Crowley's army doesn't show up, we'll be evenly matched. And half our army is already dead.

A line of black reaches the eastern horizon, cresting a tall hill as the ground begins to quake. They're coming.

"I apologize in advance," I speak to Dennis who stands to my right, calmly sipping Zinfandel from a large wine glass. "Your vineyard is about to make an incredible sacrifice."

"I'm not worried," he tells me with a small shrug. "I can always plant more. I think I know a witch or two who can help me with that."

A heavy silence falls upon us as we watch the army grow ever closer, slowly trampling every grape and vine in their path. The clouds above gather and turn angry, threatening rain with an ominous rumble of deep thunder.

'God, please tell me that's Thor,' I hear Jude make small comments. 'And not some weather wielding witch.'

'I don't think it's Thor,' I break the news to her and she curses.

"I think we've got company," Dean mutters.

I turn my eyes away from the oncoming army long enough to catch a glimpse of the massive black cloud that rips across the land behind us with a loud screech. It settles upon us and, when it dissipates, reveals the army Crowley promised, every single one of them brandishing silver machetes.

"Hell's army," a male voice speaks, causing me to quickly spin to face a black haired demon with a tanned complexion and green eyes. "Reporting for duty." He pauses to study me. "You're not Jude."

"Not exactly, no," I admit. "But they don't know that."

"Who are you?" the demon wants to know.

"Jude is here," I point to my head. "She can hear everything you're saying. My name is Castiel."

My name is more than familiar to the demon who cocks his head in curiosity.

"What are your orders?" the demon hesitantly asks at last as I watch Topaz's army march to the top of another hill.

"Kill as many of them as you can," I instruct, pointing to the army that has now paused atop the hill adjacent to the one we stand upon.

Above the clouds rumble before unleashing a warm, heavy rain upon us as we stare out across the valley to the opposing army. For a while, no one says anything. I can hear Jude humming something quietly to herself.

'What is that?' I ask her. 'What you're humming?'

'Oh, sorry,' she thinks. 'Ask Dean if he has Queen stuck in his head.'

"Your sister wants to know if you have Queen stuck in your head," I repeat to Dean who finds time for a brief smile to appear across his otherwise hardened face.

"I do now," he says.

The armies stare out at each other for a while longer before Topaz's army lets out a wild yell and begins to descend the hill into the valley. Tyr leads the shouts we and our army respond with but we do not race to meet them. The war cries are a signal.

Before our eyes appear our army of ghosts who lead the charge. The rest of us hang back and watch the colorful array of warriors from centuries past as they hack and shoot their way through the zombies, going after the vampires who are clearly unprepared to fight ghosts.

A few hunters and several fairies begin to launch bullets and arrows into the air when some of the monsters begin to get past some of our ghosts. A witch on the opposing side, the one controlling this terrible weather, sends a bolt of lighting to the valley. The electricity kills several zombies in the process. Interestingly enough, it only gives our ghosts more strength.

She must be a young witch.

"Artemis," I call to the goddess of hunters. "How far can you shoot an arrow?"

"Quite far," she responds, attempting to make her boastful statement seem modest.

"See the witch way in the back?" I point and, given her heightened god like senses, knows exactly whom I speak of. "She's the one controlling the weather."

"So long as no one stands in her way," Artemis speaks as she loads her bow with one of her hand crafted arrows. "Shouldn't be a problem. Either way, right?"

She draws back her bow, taking a careful aim before allowing the sharp arrow to sail through the sky. It lands between the witch's eyes. The lightning ceases but the rain, it seems, will be relentless.

The ghosts do a good job holding back the army, but Tyr gets anxious to join the fight, unsheathing his ancient viking sword as he grits his teeth. Paul expands in size, growing to around fifteen feet tall. Dennis relinquishes his wine glass for a sword and a gun loaded with silver bullets. Several witches begin drawing magic from within themselves and hunters make sure their guns are loaded.

'You have to yell when you run,' Jude instructs me in my head.

'Why?' I want to know.

'It's what I'd do,' she tells me. 'They think you're me. We gotta keep up that illusion, remember?'

Fair enough.

Tyr exchanges a quick glance with me and when I nod, we both let a wild yell escape our lips. Morrigan takes flight from my shoulder as the rest of us, every hunter, witch, god and demon, charge down the hill. The sound of metal clashing is almost deafening.

'I don't know what I was so worried about,' Jude thinks to me as our part in the battle begins. 'They don't have a chance in hell.'

'Pride,' I warn as I come into close contact with a zombie.

I swing Jude's scythe, taking the head off his shoulders.

'Since I'm supposed to be you,' I think as I fight, chopping head after head off of zombies and vampires. 'What exactly would you do here?'

'This works,' she agrees with my current task. 'Make sure Dean's not going down anytime soon.'

I don't have to ask her how she wants to be captured. She'll steer me in the right direction when she sees fit. Right now, she wants me to keep my focus on the monsters that rush at us.

I keep an eye on Dean when I'm not busy twisting the sharp blades around. This scythe is in fact quite a handy weapon indeed. A handier weapon would be the angel powers I'm currently not permitted to use.

'You might be able to access some of my powers,' Jude informs me, knowing precisely what I'm thinking. 'Granted, they're no where near as majestic as yours. Should keep them back a bit though.'

I find she is correct, my left hand producing a green hued energy as I extend it before me. Some sort of force field the monsters can't cross. Not that either of us are terribly concerned about being stabbed, maimed, bitten or otherwise at the moment. There is little ill fate that could fall upon her when I am here.

When Jude is ready to be captured, I attempt to push the lines back on my own. Which means I fearlessly walk through Topaz's army. Some monsters are unsure what to do, understanding who this body belongs to and what would happen to them if they were the one to take it down. Others attempt to grab at me but, under Jude's wishes, I swiftly send them to their eternal slumber.

'Are they even trying to catch us?' Jude can't help but wonder as we leave our own army behind to violently stroll through the opposing team. 'New plan. If we actually make it past all these ass hats, we're calling Topaz out for a final showdown.'

'What's an ass hat?' I find myself questioning curiously as I continue to fight my way through the monsters who seem too timid to touch us.

'Not really important right now,' she tells me. 'Listen, if something really does happen to me...'

'Nothing is going to happen to you,' I cut her train of thought short. 'I swear to you, you will make it out of this alive.'

'But if for some reason I don't,' she goes on anyway. 'Take care of my brothers, okay?'

Yeah. I've done such a great job with that so far.

'And, wherever I end up, I want you to know I'll always love you.'

'I know,' I tell her as a wraith takes a firm grasp of my arm. 'Me too.'

Slice.

The wraith no longer has a head.

Once I've hacked my way through the monsters, a brigade of witches advance upon me with all sorts of magic tricks and colorful energies. None of which work on me. At best, the blasts of raw energy they hurl at me give me a slight tingling sensation.

They can't tell there's an angel in here.

Behind the line of fifty or so witches stands a large, elaborate red tent. I'd wager anything Topaz is in there.

'You have to yell something to her,' Jude instructs me. 'Call her a lazy skank.'

"Topaz!" I cry, Jude's voice carrying across the field as I continue to behead all who stand in my way. "Come out and face me you lazy skank!"

'Good job,' Jude comments.

I watch a tall, lanky purple haired warlock gathers a dark energy within him before sending it straight for me. When it hits, it tickles a little.

'Fall down,' Jude tells me. I swiftly fall to my knees as a black haired witch sends a red colored energy at me. I pretend this affects me too, falling to the soft earth in a fit of imaginary pain. When a brown haired witch hits me with another dose of dark energy, I make it look like I'm coughing blood.

'Nice touch,' Jude comments, impressed with my portrayal of her.

"Enough!" the purple haired warlock calls out to his friends. "She's weak enough. Take her to Topaz."

I allow a few witches to collect a body illusioned to be wounded. My head I roll back as they drag me to the tent while blood continues to dribble from my lips. The scythe is confiscated from hands that appear weakened before I'm taken inside.

Upon entering the dimly, candle lit tent, I easily spy twenty other witches and five shape shifters. In the center of it all rests a small, round table upon a tall rise. A wooden box sits on this table, it's contents giving off a soft, pinkish glow that intensifies as my body nears it.

'Hey, we found the Blood Stone,' Jude nervously chatters.

"Glad you could finally join us," a female's voice speaks out from the shadows.

Slowly I roll my head to face the source of these words. She appears young, early twenties at the most, and stands at around 5'4" with long, straight black hair and honey colored eyes.

"Topaz," I mutter through a painful sounding breath, repeating everything Jude tells me to say. "Long time no see. Could have gone longer but, hey, here we are."

"I'll admit," Topaz speaks as she strides around me in a circle. "I'm a little suspicious as to your bold move. Leaving your army behind to cut through mine."

"I'm done," I spit Jude's words, pretending I am a weakened girl pretending to be strong. "I want this over. Now. You and me."

"Please," Topaz giggles at my fake condition. "You thought you could just waltz in here and kill me?"

"Pretty much, yeah," I shrug, pretending to struggle free from the witches who continue to restrain me.

"Stupid little witch," Topaz says with an eye roll. "You've walked right into my grand finale."

I watch as Topaz pauses in her circling strides, facing me. She extends her right hand before her and clearly chants a mind control incantation. Again with the tingling sensations.

"You are now in my control," Topaz tells me and I make it appear that my eyes have glazed over in white.

"What are your orders, my lady?" I bend to one knee as Jude instructs me, bowing my head to the evil woman that stands before us.

"The Blood Stone," Topaz motions to the coveted object that sits in the center of the tent. "You are to use it to unleash an age of darkness upon the world."

"Yes, my lady," I pretend I've accepted this order.

Slowly I rise to my feet and gradually inch towards the table. I climb the few stairs to the rise where I peer into the wooden box that glows brighter the closer I get. Inside this box upon a blue velvety cushion rests a round quartz the size of a child's fist, marbled with thick, dark blood.

'Ready to end this?' I ask Jude as my fingers reach out to grasp the precious rock that sparked this whole mess.

'Hell yes,' Jude replies.

"Stop!" a new voice rings out and my stomach drops.

Barachiel.

I don't want to but when I do finally turn around, I see the archangel along with a good twenty angels.

"What the hell?!" Topaz shouts as her witch companions guard themselves.

"Think higher," Barachiel tells her with no concern. "I will end each and every one of you unless Jude stands down."

He looks to me and it doesn't take him more than a second to realize I'm only part Jude.

"Castiel," he mutters.

As Dean would say, the jig is up.

I allow my eyes to return to their natural green and blue colors as I unsheathe the angel blade I've kept hidden within Jude's black trench coat sleeve. Two angels advance upon me and I find little trouble keeping them from reaching me or the stone. A vampire extends itself from the shadows and I use my own celestial methods of taking it down.

Once Topaz realizes what's going on, I find myself surrounded by about forty creatures who want to stop me.

'Grab the stone,' Jude's voice rings repetitively in my head. 'Grab the stone, grab the stone, grab the stone!'

I turn around and do as Jude tells me. The instant the stone is in my grasp, I can identify the all too familiar sensations of corruption. But it doesn't go to my head. No, it's Jude's head it's gotten to.

'Sorry sweetie,' she thinks. 'This is where you get off.'

I'm not sure how she did it, but she hurls me from her body with very little warning. I barely have a chance to blink before I'm back in my regular vessel, sitting in an overstuffed chair in Sam's bedroom.

The shock on my face tells Sam something's not quite right.

"You okay?" he questions warily.

"Jude," I look to him with a sense of urgency. "She needs us."

"Wait, _Cas_?!" Sam all but cries, swiftly rising to his feet. "What the hell happened? Where's Jude?"

"Gather as many weapons as you can carry," I instruct Sam to make his preparations with haste. "Things are not going quite as planned."


	24. Hello Oh

**Dean**

War. It's a terrible thing. It brings out the inner animal within you and makes you do things you didn't even dream possible. Like fight an entire army's worth of un-friggin-dead.

Luckily for us, we've come equipped with the right troops. Topaz's army lacks enough iron to take down our ghosts and the demons were unexpected enough for them to have left the holy water at home. Having not one but two gods of war on your side is also quite helpful, and that's putting it mildly. Morrigan protects the soldiers as she easily slays the monsters and repels the dark magic witches attempt to hurl at her. Tyr wears a grin on his face, more than happy to be slaying these ugly son's of bitches.

I'm not going to lie, it's quite a sight watching this. It's like some epic oil painting some nerd in the Midwest dreamed up in math class one day. All these gods and witches and fairies and demons clashing against the undead.

Kind of wish I had a camera.

The best part is, so far, we're winning. Even if this is where I meet my end, I'll die happy knowing this world is free of a lot less monsters. I just hope Jude and Cas don't run into too much trouble. Killing this lot won't mean much if Topaz successfully mind bends my sister.

Crap, gotta focus. I'm facing down a wraith and...

Suddenly I'm not. I'm not even in that valley. Instead, I'm standing inside a large, candle lit tent along with regular Cas and Sammy, both stricken with a deep concern.

"What the hell..." I mutter as I glance around my new surroundings.

Blood is everywhere. It soaks the ground, the thick red walls, the clothing of the bits and pieces of the people who once stood in here. It's hard to tell exactly how many people there once were here, but they're all gone. Rather, they've been brutally scattered everywhere. All but one.

Jude sits upon a tall rise in the center of the tent, silently peering over what I can only assume she did. Blood and dirt streak her face, stain her hands and cling to her clothing.

"Jude," Sammy speaks, rushing to our sister's side. "What happened?"

"I'm probably going to Hell," she absently speaks, her eyes focused on the mess she's made.

"The angels?" Cas questions and I furrow my brow.

Apparently I missed quite a show and, from the sounds of it, Cas got kicked out half way through.

"They're alive," Jude responds, never looking up. "Couldn't say where, but they won't be back for a while."

"Where's the Stone?" Sammy questions and Jude wordlessly motions to the ground.

Beside her feet lay the shattered pieces of what I can only assume is the Blood Stone.

"So it's over?" I wonder skeptically. I don't know if it's the adrenaline that still pumps madly through my veins or instinct, but I don't feel like it's entirely over.

"Well played," Crowley's voice speaks and we all look up to find the demon king and a dozen of his cronies. "But we're not finished quite yet." He pauses to look at Cas. "Bye bye, angel boy."

A demon places a bloodied hand on an Enochian symbol barely visible on the red fabric of the tent's walls. Hot, blue white light. Hasta la vista, Cas. Damn it. I knew it wasn't over yet.

"If you're after the stone," Jude speaks with a cool voice, her eyes slivered as she stares Crowley down. "I've destroyed it."

"You can reassemble it," Crowley states.

"Can," Jude agrees. "Won't."

"Pity," the demon speaks. "Could have come in handy for you right about now."

Before we can blink, they're on us. The three of us, Jude, Sammy and myself, we all find ourselves being held down by four demons apiece. I struggle fiercely against their strong grasp, attempting to maintain a grip on the angel blade I still carry which is, of course, easily knocked from my hands. Sammy and I are forced to our knees when our demons all pull guns from their jacket pockets and place the barrels to our heads. I watch a demon pull a gun to the back of Jude's neck as Crowley slowly inches closer to her with that smug smile on his face.

"This can happen one of two ways," Crowley tells Jude. "You can sacrifice yourself now and save your beloved brothers. Or, you can put up an adorable little fight and watch us kill them before we kill you."

"No!" I bark, disregarding the loaded weapons aimed at my skull.

"I'll go quietly," Jude tells Crowley. "But I'd like to know why you're about to kill me."

"Occupied meat suits are such a hassle," he casually tells her. "Besides, you've been through a lot lately. I thought I'd spare you the torture of burning off your anti possession tattoos."

"Or you know you wouldn't be able to hold me down long enough to do such a thing," Jude suspects.

"Either way," Crowley doesn't falter. "I figured it wouldn't be an issue for me if your brothers lives were on the line. If there's one thing you Winchesters love it's a good self sacrifice."

"Jude, no!" I growl. "Don't let him do this."

"You're seriously going to try to possess me for that stupid Stone?" Jude clenches her fists in rage.

"I don't have to try," Crowley gives her that smile again. "I'm going to do it."

"No!" Sammy shouts from his restraints as Crowley twists his hand to effortlessly break Jude's neck.

But her head doesn't move. Crowley frowns and tries again. This time, instead of Jude's neck snapping, the necks of the demon's holding her twist a solid 180 degrees. Which doesn't kill the creatures, of course, but it does wipe the smug smile from Crowley's face while Jude stands free before him.

As relieving as that is, it's also a little curious.

I can't say I'm a fan of the sly smile that spreads across Jude's lips at Crowley's failure to kill her.

"It's a neat illusion, isn't it?" she speaks, motioning to the broken stone. "Looks just like the real thing."

Crowley's face falls as he watches Jude pull out a very much intact Stone from her coat pocket. She looks at it for a minuet and, as she does this, every demon in the tent, save for Crowley, goes stiff. They fall motionless but conscious to the ground. Sammy and I scramble to our feet and cautiously watch Jude.

Is it terrible I'm having a hard time picking out the bad guy in the room right now? I mean, it should be obvious that it's Crowley. The way Jude looks at him is giving him a run for his money in the evil department.

"Well played indeed," Crowley admits. He's doing a decent job pretending he's not scared shitless right now.

"This can happen one of two ways," Jude repeats Crowley's words to him, extending her left hand before her. Her fingers curl, as if they were squeezing an unseen object. A look of intense pain twists across the demon king's face as he falls to his knees and clutches his stomach.

"You and your army can go back to Hell," my sister gives the demon his options. "And you leave me and my brothers alone from here on out. Or, I can annihilate every single one of them, starting with you."

"Door number one sounds good," Crowley coughs.

Jude releases her dark force death grip on Crowley's insides and he, along with his cronies, vanish. He doesn't want to stick around and find out how serious Jude is. He's seen enough of what she can do with that Stone.

And so have I.

"Jude," I cautiously but sternly speak my sister's name. "Give me the Stone."

The way Jude looks at me, I can't tell if she didn't hear me or if she's completely ignoring me.

"We need to go back on the field," Jude says, putting the Stone back into her pocket. "We need to tell the troops it's over."

"But it's not over, Jude," Sammy stands in her way of exiting the tent.

"It will be when I'm finished with them," Jude growls as anger flashes in her eyes.

"No," Sam shakes his head. "This isn't over until you destroy the Stone." He pauses to hold out his right hand. "Give it to me."

"I can't," Jude shakes her head. "Not yet. The battle is not over."

"I think Tyr and Morrigan have a good handle on that," I attempt assurance. "Give us the Stone before it corrupts you."

"I can use it for good," Jude insists.

"I know you think you can, Jude," Sammy tells her, his tone calm in an attempt to bring down our sister's rage. "Believe me, I know better than anyone. It seems like a gift and your intentions may be pure, but believe me when I tell you nothing good will come of this."

Jude ponders this, but not for long.

"I don't have time for this," she spits. "I need to get back out there."

Sammy doesn't move.

"Do not stand in my way," Jude growls her warning to Sammy. "I won't hurt you, but I won't be stopped."

Her venomous words give me chills. The corruption has already begun to settle. It probably sank in when she ripped apart Topaz and her gang.

"Fine," Sam reluctantly stands aside. "But once this is over, you will destroy it, right?"

"Yeah, sure," Jude mutters as she retrieves her scythe from the ground near the tent's opening. The way she says this isn't exactly comforting. Like there's a chance that the battle will continue once Jude wipes the undead from the valley. Only it'll be all of us against the most powerful witch currently in existence.

Sammy gives me a sideways glance that tells me he knows this too.

We follow Jude back onto the field and it doesn't take those still fighting long to take notice. The battle comes to a screeching halt and an eerie silence fills the muddy, corpse strewn valley. For a long and horrible moment, the only thing that can be heard is the heavy rain that continues to fall as all eyes watch Jude with a grave uncertainty. She fearlessly marches through the bloodied muck, carelessly stepping on the bodies of fallen beasts as she walks amongst monsters and gods alike.

"Topaz is dead!" Jude shouts as loudly as she can, her voice carrying across the field. "For those of you who stood with her, prepare to do the same."

A deep red light grows from within Jude's chest as the surviving undead and witch army attempt to take flight. They don't get too far before the light explodes from within my sister and consumes everything in the valley. Sammy and I both have to turn away from the blinding, fiery energy that reaches out to us.

It lasts for a few minuets. I can't see what's going on, but to me all it is, is a really bright light. When it finally begins to fade, it doesn't take me long to see it was a lot more than a really bright light. Charred corpses of Topaz's remaining army smolder and hiss as rain continues to fall upon the earth.

Our army, the only army left, says nothing. No one cheers or sings out in victory. We're all still a little warily of Jude. Sure, she got rid of our foes. But what's her next move?

I can see a small fragment of my sister as she looks around the silent battle field. She takes in every face, alive and dead, and I can tell this sight is deflating. She wants to look away, but she also wants to remember.

What she does next is a little surprising, given the last ten minuets and the obvious power trip she experienced. She slowly turns to face Sammy. For a minuet they say nothing as Jude studies our little brother and, when it looks like she's just going to turn away again, she drops the Stone into his hands.

"We'll destroy it tomorrow," she mutters, sorrowfully hanging her head as she turns away. "We've got some bodies to bury."


	25. Bittersweet Victory

**Jude**

We may have won the war, but that doesn't mean we didn't loose anything. Our army was strong, but not untouchable and we lost several troops. Witches, hunters, fairies. Once victory is ours, it is this loss we must take care of.

Erin and her fairies collect their vanquished soldiers and return to their homeland. The rest of us, the hunters, the witches, the gods and other immortals collect our fallen friends as the rain begins to cease and the clouds begin to part. An eerie silence falls upon the battle field as we respectfully pull the defeated men and women from the thick mud that's taken the place of lush vines.

Cas returns to us after a while and upon seeing me, he tightly embraces me. He's so relieved to see me alive, he doesn't care if I have the Stone or not. I return his embrace with a strength equal to his. His arms don't make anything better, but it gives me the virtue and comfort I need to digest it all.

It's funny thinking back to the beginning of all this, when I first returned to my brothers. I hoped all along they would help be, but at the same time I thought I could do it without them. Now that it's all said and done, I don't think I could have.

We hold a mass hunter's funeral under a bright quarter moon that evening as the fallen monsters burn in the valley beyond. It takes us all a good twenty-four hours before we truly feel like we won. The pain of loosing friends will always remain, so it is their life and their sacrifice we now celebrate and honor.

Two fires are built a short distance from Dennis's winery under a starry night sky as the celebrations begin. Tyr and Paul gather enough wood to create a large, warm bonfire where witches, gods and hunters gather to laugh, cheer and pass around bottles of whiskey, wine and beer. The second fire is much smaller and a lot more complex. A multitude or herbs, roots and specific tree bark create a small flame with a green hued tint. This is where the Stone will die and it all really ends.

To these magical green flames I whisper a short slew of Latin words, a quick incantation to strengthen the small fire, before holding out my right hand to Sam.

"Why don't I throw it in?" my little brother is hesitant to pass the Stone from his pocket and into my possession.

"Sorry," I shake my head. "It's gotta be me."

Begrudgingly he pulls the object from his jacket pocket and slowly places it in my hand. Both my brothers watch me with a wary eye, waiting for me to change my mind and go dark side. Yeah, right. I've come too far and lost too much to turn dark...

Except, do you realize how much I could do with this thing? Looking at the object that sits so innocently in the palm of my hand in the soft glow of the green fire, it's a shame to waste such a powerful tool. I could send a lot of monsters packing to Purgatory with this thing. Climate change? Non issue with this Stone in my possession. Crooked politicians, evil witches, mercenaries, general jerks and douche bags. I could exterminate them all. I and I alone, with this one stupid crystal, could bring peace to the world.

Maybe I shouldn't throw it in...

Cas silently places a gentle hand upon my shoulder, wordlessly giving me the strength to rid the world of this godforsaken weapon.

I'm so glad my brothers came with an angel. This angel. My angel.

Before I can pine any longer over the powers I could have, I throw the Stone into the pit where it hisses, crackles and actually melts. The flames transition from green to blue to purple, then rise high in an angry red before settling down into a normal orange and yellow.

"A toast!" Tyr's jolly voice booms as he raises a frothy mug high into the air. "To Jude! A fine woman, a fierce warrior and a fearless leader! I will battle with you any day. Cheers!"

"Cheers!" the others shout as they raise their own bottles and glasses.

"Cheers indeed."

Oh, for the love of...

Barachiel, the archangel with a vendetta against me, appears as he does, from nowhere, standing opposite of the small fire my brothers and I still stand before. Seemingly he has come alone. Unfortunately, that's how this guy likes to roll. Only seemingly alone.

Cas takes a firm grasp of my left hand with his right as his stance becomes rigid, preparing himself to protect and fight. Dean unsheathes his angel blade while Artemis loads her bow with her special tipped arrows.

"Good to see the grace of God is met with such hostility," Barachiel makes a sarcastic but light toned comment.

"Not the grace of my god," Tyr rises to the defense.

"Please," Barachiel rolls his eyes. "I didn't come to argue religion or to fight."

His words bring little to no comfort to those still holding weapons and Cas tightens his grip on my hand.

"Coming alone doesn't count for anything?" Barachiel questions curiously.

"I significantly doubt you came alone," Cas accuses, his eyes slivering as he speaks.

"But I did," Barachiel insists. "I came to apologize."

"Also hard to believe," Dean mutters to which Barachiel simply smiles.

"Castiel," he begins, his eyes falling to his little brother. "I am sorry I pulled you out of Purgatory to slay the Winchester's sister. And I'm sorry I continued to insist upon it after you had clearly fallen in love with her. And Jude." He pauses long enough to give me attention. "I am sorry we did not have faith in you. Castiel tried to convince us you could destroy the Stone and his words fell upon deaf ears."

Is this really happening? Is a freaking archangel seriously apologizing? To a witch? Somebody pinch me.

"Yes, I am really apologizing to you," Barachiel assures me, knowing exactly what I'm thinking. "Believe me, don't believe me. It's all the same to me, really. I said what I came to say and I know my sincerity."

He pauses again to study me as the tension mildly eases amongst my companions.

"Don't you worry about where you go when your life does come to an end," he tells me with a kind voice. "So long as you don't kill anymore angels, I will save a place for you. Sam," he looks to my youngest brother. "Same goes for you. Dean, you needn't worry either. Do you think we would allow you to suffer this long only to suffer for an eternity?" Pause. "This is all pending, mind you. You shoot up a bank or blow up a shopping mall, it's straight to the pit."

Well duh.

"Castiel," he looks to my angel. "You are welcome home, little brother."

He extends a hand in Cas's direction.

"I think I'll stick around for a while," Cas informs the current angel in charge, giving my hand a loving squeeze. "I promised Jude and Dennis I would replant the vines he lost in the battle."

Barachiel notices the way our hands are clasped and gives Cas a small, knowing smile.

"Whenever you're read to return," the archangel says. "The gates will be open to you."

And he's gone, as quickly as he came, vanishing into the night air.

"That was... weird," Dean comments, slowly lowering his weapon while maintaining his cautious stance.

"Yeah," Sam agrees. "But it's nice to know Jude's off Heaven's hit list."

"True," Dean nods before gradually exchanging his weapon for a glass of red wine, something that prompts us to give him a curious and sideways glance. "What? It's all I've been drinking this past month. It's grown on me. I like it. Shut up."

Sam and I can't help but let a small chuckle escape our lips.

"Anyway," Dean carries on after a few sips of Zinfandel. "What's next for the Winchesters? Where do we go from here?"

Where indeed?

"I think we've all exceeded our limit on attempting a normal life," Sam begins. "Let's not even try that again."

"Wasn't even thinking about that," Dean admits, turning his eyes to me. "What about you? Where are you going?"

"Nowhere," I assure my brothers, sending them a quick wink. "You're stuck with me now."

I pause to allow a slow smile spread across my lips as an idea comes to mind.

"Hey, Pele!" I call out to the Polynesian goddess. "What's the weather in Hawaii like this time of year?"

"Wonderful," the goddess responds. "The weather in Hawaii is always wonderful."

I look back to my brothers with a hopeful smile.

"A vacation?" Dean questions.

"Yeah," I shrug. "Why not? I think we've earned it."

"You know I hate flying, right?" Dean's not on board with a tropical island getaway.

"I'm positive I can find alternate transportation," I give Cas a small wink. "Come on. We can lay on the beach, sip rum out of a coconut... or wine or whatever. When's the last time you ever just laid on a beach somewhere?"

"Uh..." Dean tries to recall the last time he's even been to a beach, let alone lay on the soft sands or play in the surf. "I... I don't think I've ever done that, actually."

"Point and match," I say. "What'd ya say? I think we've gone above and beyond on our monster killing quota for a while."

"Can't argue with logic," Sam agrees with me, calmly taking a sip of bear from his bottle.

"Yeah," Dean agrees at last. "I could use a vacation. Soak up some sun, get a tan, meet some beach bunnies."

I smile up at Cas who gives me a small nod before placing a long and affectionate kiss upon my cheek.

"I'm so proud of you," he whispers.

"Thanks," I smile. "But I couldn't have done it without you."

I may be a strong woman and a powerful witch, but I mean what I say. With a loving man and two incredible brothers at my side, I'm all the stronger. Monsters beware; team Winchester just got a lot stronger. And we're sick of your crap. So play nice or prepare to pay the price.


	26. Epilogue - The End Of The Road

**Dean**

Everyone always wants to know what's next. What happens to Sam and Dean? Do they stick together with their long lost sister? And what becomes of Jude and Cas? Do they spend the rest of their days together? Is it a happily ever after?

I hate to break it to you, but there's no such thing as happily ever after, especially if you're a hunter. And the story's not over, not really. Only another chapter has ended. As far as the future goes, it's hard to tell what will transpire. It is unwritten, unforeseen, etcetera and so on.

What I do know is this; Jude has made good on her promise to leave our memories alone. She also made good on her warning that we were "stuck" with her. After a week on a beach in Hawaii, she's tagged along with Sammy and I on a number of cases. Not all. She still has her own friends she likes to visit and a few more she likes to hunt with.

As far as her and Cas go, they're still hanging out. And by "hanging out" I mean, it's kind of rare to see one without the other. It's still kind of weird, but they're happy so I can't complain.

Whenever I look back on a particular trial or battle in my life, I gain a lot of perspective and sometimes just a little wisdom. What this last fight taught me was somewhat unexpected given the circumstances. It used to bother me that Sammy and I didn't really ever have a place to call home. Since the war ended, I've come to realize I do have one. See, a home's not four walls with windows and a roof. Home is where people know you and actually love and care for you. Wherever they are, that's where home is.

That sounded a little deep for me. Don't tell Sammy or Jude I said that. There are actual feelings in those words.

What's next, who could say? Fate's not in charge anymore, so I guess it's up to me to make my own destiny. And I plan on killing a hell of a lot more monsters on my way.

**Well, that's all for this story, folks. Thanks for reading! I hope it was as fun to read as it was to write. Check back soon for more Winchester tales. I've got a few adventures I've been working on (shameless self plug). Gotta do something while we wait for season nine, am I right?**


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